Ready, Aim, Fire
by TheKnightMayor
Summary: The summer marked the beginning of the first ever Quarter Quell. And things are getting shaken up in Panem by forces that Marinette had no idea about. To make matters worse, a boy she met over three years ago, who is suppose to be a Capitol citizen and immune to the Reapings, has been chosen as her district partner. How the hell is she ever going to make it back home against
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't any own anything from Miraculous.**

 **Also I'm looking for a beta reader.**

 **Chapter One**

The first weeks of summer were always a blessing. Winter had lasted for a very long time this year, and spring was short lived because of it. If District 8 depended on crops for a source of food, there would have been a shortage of food next coming fall. Her parents were concerned that next year they would have to use the flour and sugar more sparingly if they wanted to make ends meet. Being the sweet, compassionate girl she was, Marinette would never let her parents feel the stress of paying for bills and food if she could help it; so ever since middle school, she would take four to six hour shifts as a seamstress, making Peacekeeper uniforms right after school. She also applied for tesserae, adding her name an additional time each year.

She never told her parents she had. She would just add the oil and grain each month to their food storage for the bakery, and they were never the wiser. With this year's reaping, her name would be within that bowl 28 times.

Even with her name placed in that many times, Marinette chose to ignore the number throughout the year and each time she picked up her monthly grain and oil. Yet, while enjoying the first few weeks of summer, she knew the reaping was creeping closer and closer. Each day that passed, the daunting number blared in her head, branded into her mind until the reaping. After the names were called, and it wasn't her, she would breath a sigh of relief and pray to whoever, whatever was listening that at least someone from 8 would come back home. Her home district wasn't a very popular win in the Games.

That's what the dark haired seamstress was trying to tell herself now as she stood in line, waiting to get her finger pricked before she joined the others, in the 17 year old group. She knew just like every year before, her name hadn't been called, and what were the odds it would happen this year as well? They were certainly higher, but realistically, how much bigger? Two days of reaping had already gone by, starting with Districts 1, 2, and 3 on the first day, following the next three on the second, and the 8th was scheduled to start by noon. Before then, Peacekeepers would sweep the industrial city, making sure anyone who wasn't bedridden was standing in the streets nearest the Justice Building.

The cameramen were busy near the stage, adjusting the lighting, and angles, preparing the ultimate viewing that the Capitol had relished in for the past 24 years and would enjoy for another special 25th anniversary.

Marinette's finger was pricked and she was allowed through the barriers. Peacekeepers escorted her to the correct 17 year old area. It was towards the front, the oldest being kept right near the stage. Next year, she would join them. Yes, next year, she would make it to next year, and that would be the end of it, no more constant worry for the Games. She made sure to lick the dab of blood on her fingertip, not wanting to stain her white, white dress. She had designed it herself when she was 12. It tightened just underneath her breasts, and flowed down her body, embroidered with a pink flower print design. When she was 12, the ends of the dress hung well below her ankles, now, they twirled around her mid thighs with her long, thin legs.

The sun blared down, but a gush of wind passed through the center, letting some sigh in relief that the weather at least was in good favor. The wind whipped her dress around her legs, and lightly tickled the girl standing beside her. The blond looked over, eyes on her handmade dress "Hey Marinette. Long time, no see."

The girl branded with a 28 on her mind looked her way, her hand coming up to push back some loose black strand of hair "Oh, Melodie! Hey, what are the odds, huh?"

The sudden mention of odds sobered the mood of seeing Melodie after such a long while. The two still smiled kindly, until Marinette broke the ten second silence.

"It's been like, what, since middle school? Ever since they split the classes into four, I haven't seen you around. Except those shiny blond beacons of hair now and again." She teased, poking at the golden tresses bound together in a braid.

Melodie flicked her hair to her other shoulder, away from Marinette's grasping fingertips "Stop! You'll undo the braid. And you would see me more if you ever slowed down for more than a minute." The taller dark haired girl could argue more, but felt the point was mute. Her old blond friend continued "And haven't you been wearing that dress since you were 12?"

"Well I've made alterations to it as I got older." More 17 year olds flooded the area they were in, moving the two girls closer together and deeper into the crowd. When they settled, Marinette continued "Besides, it has gotten me through 5 reapings so far. I figure, why not go for a lucky number 6?"

Melodie nodded, reaching beneath the shirt of her dress and putting out the charm necklace and laying it flat on her chest "This is my 'lucky charm'. Kind of, not really. It's more of a memorial." Ten tiny metal charms hung from her neck "I add two more every year, one to represent each person that goes into the Games." The last one she had added on looked like a small bird, a sparrow.

And for Marinette, it was like it was yesterday. She hadn't known the girl from last year, someone three years her junior, but she remember her crying. Her name had been in there once: just once. And the boy right after her, holding her on stage as she cried was named Sparrow. He was once hers and Melodie's classmate. The bluenette, reached out and touched the charm "I like it. I can really remember him like this. It's very pretty."

The blond smiled softly "Thank you." She looked to the back of the Square, looking to see just how many more people needed to file in "I hate the wait, it's the worse. Plus, this year is going to be so much different from every other year."

"Yea, the Quarter Quell. How do you think it's going to work?" The part time seamstress asked. Watching the announcement before the first reaping had been shocking. They had announced the first ever Quarter Quell, with a special twist to the Games. Marinette had thought it had been a joke, but nothing on Panem TV was ever a joke. This year, the Games were upping the ante, wanting to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the defeat of the rebellion. President Andre Bourgeois had thought it was thrilling to see how far Panem had come in such a short time, and what a better way to showcase that then having the tributes be forced not to recognize each other in the Games. She honestly wasn't sure what he said meant by that.

All he had said was that it was to represent how the rebels could not recognize that the Capitol was their only true friend and that the Districts could not rely on each other. President Bourgeois left it at that, explaining to the audience that the surprise would be revealed once the Games had really begun.

Melodie could only shrug "Beats me. I just want to be on this side of the television screen when we find out."

About to respond, Marinette opened her mouth to speak but the Panem National Anthem began to blare through the speakers on the stage. Up on stage, the ever wonderful Alec Cataldi. He was the District 8 Escort for as long as Marinette could remember. He was a shining example of a perfect Capitol citizen, meant to make the Capitol feel more immersed into the Games. With his dark skin, shaved head, and eyelashes long enough to cast shadows on his cheeks, his booming voice lit up the stage as the Anthem came to a close "Welcome, Welcome young ones to the 25th Annual Hunger Games. And what an exciting one this time, don't you agree?" Alec looked out among the thousands of sullen teens around him.

He was greeted with silence as he always was each and every year, but continued on nonetheless "Now the time has come for us to select the two brave candidates that will represent District 8 in the first ever Quarter Quell."

Over to the left hand side, where the 16 year old boys stood, one shouted "Like we have a choice!"

Marinette had to look away as the Peacekeepers quickly silenced him with a blow to the head. He laid on the floor, no one daring to look his way.

Alec continued, hardly flicking a long eyelash the boy's way "And as always, we'll have ladies go first." The man sauntered over to the bowl representing the girls. It was quite large, a tunnel of wind pumped through it to circulate the names inside it. There were over 800 names, certainly hundreds more in repeats, and 28 of them belonged to Marinette.

His hand waved through the globe, allowing names to hit his hand in the wind, but he did not grab out to one just yet.

Her heart was in her throat, thudding as she swallowed roughly.

She was so parched.

She wished she could go home quickly from here.

The crowds would be terrible to get through.

And the bakery was pretty far from the Square.

And she had left her sewing kit on her bed, she really hoped she didn't lose another needle.

Alec's had reached out for the name and pulled it away from the globe. He walked back to where his mike stood, center stage. The mike's audio reverbing through the dead silent crowd when he cleared his throat.

The girl with the black hair pulled back in pigtails had her nails digging into the fleshy bits of her palm, and her bottom lip wedge in between her teeth.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Miraculous at all. Not even a little bit.**

 **Chapter Two**

Inside the biggest and busiest fashion studio in the Capitol, televisions were all set to watch the Reapings as popular actors and models and tv show hosts were coming in for fittings. Even Penny Rolling, host for the Games was there. This year around, she was sporting purple hair, cut short and framed her heart shaped face. In all the years since the Games had begun, Panem had never found a better star to shine off both the tributes and the Capitol. Her way with words made her easy to be around, she was one of those people who anyone could click with. In the past two years, Penny had managed to garner the attention of sponsors to the most unlikely of contests in the Games during the interview process simply because the shyer tributes could speak more due to her encouragement.

And currently, the Host was trying to get one of the least spoken models of Agreste Fashion, son of fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste, Adrien, to give her an interview. Cameraman posted near her shoulder, Mrs. Rolling almost never seen without it, and a mic glued to her hand, she nearly stood at Adrien's impressive height, with her dauntingly tall heels "Mr. Agreste, come now, it wouldn't even have to discuss your family's business. Panem just wants to get to know _you_ , the boy behind the mask of the model."

Vincent, Adrien's stylist, was crouched at his pant leg, adjusting the length of a set of white pants that were suppose to match to his father's clothing design for the opening ceremony of the Games. The photographer turned stylist groaned, cutting off the tall, blond model before he could provide yet another excuse not to be interviewed by the purple haired tv anchor "The only thing the people of Panem need to know is how exhausted his wardrobe designer, aka me, is from having to readjust his clothing every other week!"

The supermodel had the decency to blush, no doubt the camera toggled over Penny's shoulder had captured the flush of his cheeks "I'm sorry Vincent. I've just been growing a few inches over the past few months."

Finished with his work, the overworked stylist leaned back on his haunches, hands resting on his hips and looking up to the just under six foot tall Adrien Agreste "Just a few inches?! Bah! Try over six inches in just as many months!" He stood, dusting off his knees "You're almost as tall as your father. Why did your mother have to go give you all these good looks if your father was just going to throw in his two cents with his height? Oh, mon cheri, I remember when your head barely reached my neck. Now look, the situation has almost flopped!" Vincent drew his hand up, showing a line from his head to Adrien's shaved chin.

"The actual growing part of growing up can be really hard." Penny quipped, turning her eyes to the blond of the group "Care to share a few comments with our viewers on the subject?"

His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, finding comfort in the short blond hairs at the nape of his shaved hair "Just that growing pains aren't the best. Just goes to show everyone that models have to deal with awkward stages of life too." He chuckled lightly, the kind he had to practice to fake a smile on set. Everyone thought it was convincing enough in pictures, but it was easier to see in person that he wasn't born an actor by any means.

Penny reached out to his dimpled cheek, pinching it softly " _You_ Adrien are certainly an example of an awkward teen. You're a sweetheart, but not really like any of the other models that work for Agreste Fashion. They say you don't really have any friends amongst your colleagues. Is that true?"

He knew he was getting sucked into the purple talk show host. It was hard not to. He tried keeping it brief, "It's hard keeping or making any friends in this industry. Plus, with my schedule, I hardly have time to breath let alone go to an afterparty." There was that chuckle again, well practiced.

His life was scheduled from the moment he had been born. Between school, homework, piano, fencing, Mandarin, modelling, and the basic necessities to continue living, Adrien's social life was nearly nonexistent, and even talking with someone like Penny Rolling, who was kind and could make up most of a conversation by herself, was hard. He could already feel the swell of anxiety creeping up acidly from his stomach and coiling around his chest uncomfortably.

As luck would have it, or it was more likely Nathalie's impeccable scheduling, she and his father stepped into the floor room, eagle like eyes looking for his son, and it was easy to find that golden hair just about anywhere. Gabriel, wearing his own brand of clothing, crossed the room, closing the front button on the suit of his white jacket, trimmed in blue jewels and golden ends. Quickly, with Vincent's help, Adrien put on his suit's jacket, the arm length just fitted to him less than an hour ago. Gabriel stopped in front of his son. He tightened his blue tie for the younger man "You're going to be late." He said curtly as he adjusted the tie.

His green eyes stayed staring at the bridge of his father's nose, as he had been trained for years to do "Sorry father. Vincent said I grew another inch or so and it needed an adjustment, so I came here." He gestured to the high heeled woman he had just been speaking with "And Mrs. Rolling happen to be in picking up one of the custom made outfits she ordered. We were just chatting."

His father hummed lowly in the back of his throat. He bowed his head slightly to the Host "Mademoiselle, a pleasure to see you once more. If you would need anymore assistance with the clothing you purchased, I'm sure Vincent is more than capable of extending a hand to help. For now, Adrien and I must be at a showing in my office for the District 8 Reaping."

The hostess' eyes got big, filled with excitement "Of course, Monsieur Gabriel." The fashion mogul was just about to turn on his heel for the exit, when Mrs. Rolling's next words caught him like a hook "But, if I understand correctly, your wife was the victor of District 8, is that right?"

He sighed under his breath "Yes, that was nearly 25 years ago. Why does this concern you?"

The sting from his tone was heard, but it didn't slow Penny down a bit "Well, this is a very special year for the Games, and since her disappearance, there has been a very notable lack of friendly communication between the Capitol and the Districts. Your wife really was a very great Citizen for the Capitol and Panem. So, I think in honor of her, taping you two during the viewing and asking you some questions would open that avenue back up, don't you agree?"

Nathalie was just about to dismiss the idea, when Gabriel held up a hand "I suppose a taping and a _ten_ minute interview would be more than alright. So long as you personally agree to host the Fall Fashion Show, all seven days of it." He held up his hand for the bargain.

"You drive a hard bargain, throw in a free boozes pass at the show, and I'm yours." She countered, keeping her hands crossed over her chest, mic still pointedly in one hand.

The businessman conceded "You'll get your pass."

They shook on the deal and Penny followed the Agreste men up to Gabriel's office, seated at the top most floor in the building. Adrien hung his head, knowing Penny would ask some poking questions that he wasn't prepared to answer.

His mother had been a touchy subject for him ever since her disappearance, and for any kid, how couldn't it be? Just what did you say when you were the last person to see your mother before your house burnt down and then were as never a sign of her ever being there? The day she disappeared, almost everything that was a part of her was burned away and if it wasn't for the digital images left from her time within the Capitol, there wouldn't be a trace of her. On his worse days, he wasn't sure if it was better that she was missing rather than dead.

Each year, he and his father would sit in his office and watch as the District 8 Reaping would occur. His father never mentioned why they had to watch it, but the tradition continued every year, ending with his father taking a shot of something strong and continuing along with their schedules. This year was no different, with the exception of Penny Rolling sitting beside him and her cameraman taking the video of them from a kneeling angle, camera propped up on his shoulder. Adrien kept his eyes trained on the nearly wall to wall television screen. At least while it was on, he wouldn't be asked any questions. The anthem began to play through the speakers before a bird eye view over the thousands of teens of District 8 flooded his eyes, only a center aisle between the boys and girls separated them. Parents and siblings and the absolute rest of the textile district filled every corner of the streets. The buzz of the crowd dimmed as the Escort of District 8, Alec Cataldi, took to the stage, trying to get a laugh from them, or the people watching.

Alec was down three volunteers for the laughing job, because as long as Adrien had been alive, he had never his father crack anything bigger than a polite smile. Adrien never joked when it came to the Reapings or the Interviews or the Games or any of that crap because even with his mixed and hardly understandable emotions about his mother, he knew that she went through hell and back and she was _the first one to ever do it_. And Penny most likely didn't find Alec to be as charming or amusing as she was. She was a tv show host after all, and had to be a little full of herself now and again.

Luckily for the thousands of them in District 8, and the three of them seated there, Alec continued, going to the large globe containing the names of the girls. The camera would pan back and forth between the girls and the globe. Everyone holding their breath.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

The supermodel's heart skipped a beat before it sunk. He leaned towards the screen, green eyes bewildered. No. It couldn't possibly be the same girl.

The crowd of girls parted, revealing the dark haired teen that he had met three winters ago. Her hair was even in the same pigtails! Her white dress with a flower printed on the front swayed with the wind. Alec called out to her "Marinette! Ah, there you are. Come on now, don't be shy. Join me up here on stage."

The cameras zoomed up so closely on her face that he could see the freckles dotting across her nose and cheeks. The window around her got framed to the side as her personal information came through the system, from her blood type, to her height, weight, birthday, and an estimated number of her training score number would be. Which sat at a lowly 6.

As she was called up by Alec, her eyes remained trained on the ground just ahead of her. Something was running through her brain behind those bright blue eyes. Only after a few steps did she turn her head to look at something behind her. A flicker of recognition passed through her, but before Adrien could identify the next emotion that was drumming through her, the camera panned to Alec. After a second he called out to her again "Right up here Marinette." He held his hand out to her.

The camera didn't ever turn back around, only facing the stage now. Alec helped the dark haired girl upstage and held her hand, and brought it up, as if she was a champion that had won some special prize "Our first tribute!" The escort then moved to the opposite side of the stage "And now for the boys."

He could hardly keep his attention on Alec anymore. His mind was back three years ago, during the falling snow. District 8 didn't have a tree in sight, so seasons changing was hardly noticed in the northeast section of Panem. He always remembered his mother's favorite season was winter because it was the one time a season came to District 8. The first time he met Marinette, she lobbed a snowball so hard at his head and he fell flat on his ass. She looked down at him, standing next to his side, bent at her waist, and her hands resting on her knees,

" _You know, it's not much of a snowball fight if you don't throw one back."_

"A-Adrien Agreste?" The television screen called out his attention with his own name. Alec looked just as confused as he was. He pressed his hand into the headpiece in his ear, muttering into it "Can that be right?"

The blond had an eyebrow raised "Did they just say my name?"

Penny already had her microphone by his mouth "Mr. Agreste! You've just been called as District 8's male tribute! Did you know this was a possibility? What will you do now?"

The model's mouth hung half open, his green eyes were flickering between Penny, her microphone, and the television screen "Did he just say my name?" He repeated, his brain, once filled with his memories of District 8 and Marinette were drawing an all out blank.

He sat wordlessly in his chair, and his father and Nathalie were shoving the host and cameraman out of the door as she's firing off questions. His father sternly repeated "No comment." Nathalie already buzzed for the security team, but it hardly mattered now. The damage was done. The television started playing a side by side frame of the District 8 square and his shocked face, repeating " _Did they just say my name?"_

Adrien stared at the pristine white floor, his hands loosely clasped between his legs. Once he pushed Penny out the door and locked it firmly, Gabriel turned around "Adrien, we need to have a discussion." The way he said it made it sound so casual, as if he was just another talking about another scheduling issue.

The younger man was quick to anger, before this moment, he had never felt so.. betrayed "You knew, didn't you?" He asked and hadn't pulled his eyes off the spot on the floor that he had grown comfortable to.

His father didn't answer. Gabriel walked behind his charge, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

Adrien ripped out of his grasp. He jumped out of his chair and turned on his heels towards his father who stood a few inches taller than his son "You _**knew**_ , didn't you?" When he didn't answer again, his fist balled up tight by his side and he yelled "ANSWER ME DAMN IT!"

Gabriel's lips turned flat before answering tersely "Yes, I did know it was a possibility. But Adrien, I took every precaution to make that possibility nearly nonexistent. Most kids your age would have had their names in there at the very least 6 times. The average in District 8 is 15, Adrien. It's 15. Your name was in there one time. Just once." He expected his father to be shaking, to be just as enraged as he was. But the man was just was calm, cool, and collected as ever. His voice was just louder than the tv behind Adrien, and he could hear the confirmation of his and Marinette's placement as the District 8 tributes.

Looking at his father like this made Adrien's blood boil "Why didn't you tell me?! I had every right to know!"

His father sighed "I can never talk to you when you're like this. You're just like your mother."

The chair Adrien had been sitting in was knock over to close the distance to his father. His hands fisted the older man's shirt and dragged him close. Nathalie gasped. The blond was shaking. Tears threatened to burn the edges of his eyes. Gabriel hardly moved from the spot he was standing in "AND NOW I'M A TRIBUTE JUST LIKE HER TOO!"

Unfazed, Gabriel took both of Adrien's wrists and removed his hands from his clothing "And I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are the victor of your Games as well."

The high string of emotions were too much. Adrien wrapped his arms around his father and cried into his shoulder. He asked pointless questions that his father wouldn't answer 'Why didn't you tell me?' 'How did you know?' 'What's going to happen to me?' He didn't answer, but uncharacteristically, Gabriel hugged his son and soothed the back of his head, patting his hair like a child to calm him down.

Thousands of miles away, another father held their child. Marinette cried into her father's arms. One of his eyes has swollen shut, black and blue. Her mother stood by their side, gently rubbing her daughter's back as she muttered endless apologizes.

"Papa! I'm so sorry that I got you hurt!"

His large fingers pat the short hairs at the nape of her neck "Mon chouchou, this is not your fault. Your Papa is just a silly man." He wiped the tears from his daughter's face "This wound is only temporary. My only real wound would be if I lost you. My daughter!" Tom was not one to cry. He was a rather large man, raised in a family of three sisters, where he was the littlest but the strongest. He had to put on the brave face and protect his family, a trait that was not lost to him when he started his family with Sabine but now he was powerless to help his own daughter. Tears descended his soft cheeks and wet his mustache.

Sabine brushed her husband's and daughter's hair. She held back tears, but her small hand squeezed the large man's biceps at his words "Tom!" Her family's eyes turned to the small woman, shocked in such a raw experience "Don't say such a thing. This isn't goodbye. Not by a long shot." She knelt down, Tom and Marinette's legs having given up on them the moment they started hugging. She held her child's face between her palms and brought her up to stand as she spoke "You are my strong Marinette." At their full heights, Marinette stood a good half a head taller than her mother "Just look at you. You're strong and you're smart too."

The younger woman smiled through her tears. She put a hand over her mother's, turning her face into her mother's palm "Thanks mama, b-but what if it's not enough?"

"It will be." She insisted.

A peacekeeper by the door interrupted them "You have one more minute."

"We don't have much time." Her mother began looking through her purse, finally pulling out a picture of the three of them "Take this for your trip. And- And watch what you eat, in the Capitol and the- the Arena."

"Don't worry Marinette. We'll do whatever we can to send you money in the Games. We'll sell the bakery if we have to." Her father added to the young girl's distress.

"Don't! I mean, Mama, Papa, I appreciate it, I really do. But I-I'm strong on my own." She resolved herself, putting on a brave face "I'll come back home. I will, I promise."

The peacekeepers opened the doors "Your time is up."

She kissed her parent's cheeks "Go, please. For me. And don't sell the bakery. It'll only upset me. Just promise me to bake me something sweet for when I come back!" She waved goodbye to her parents. All she could think of was that those sweets would go to waste if she came back in a bodybag.

 **Alright, that's two! Let me know how you guys like it and I'll be sure to upload everything a lot faster.**


	3. Trapped on a Train

**Chapter Three**

A minute after her parents are escorted from the room, Alec comes in with a an avox in tow. She is dressed in red, but besides that, there is nothing outstanding about the girl. Her long black hair was pinned up, not a hair touching the red band around her neck. One of her eyes was covered by her bangs. She stood by Alec's side, hands clasped in front of her and her eyes downcast.

The District 8 escort clapped his hands together "Now that all of that tragic stuff is out of the way, let's get a good look at you." He moved to circle her, eyes dragging up and down her form "Not bad. Seen worse off for sure." He played with the ends of her pigtails "In fact, I think we can make you perfect Capitol material. Of course, you'll have to learn quickly. I'll have to spend most of my time with Adrien, no offense. He just looks like a shoe in to win."

She still felt the sting. Of course supermodel Adrien Agreste would win over her. His mother was the first victor ever and he was a popular model on his own with a father who had millions of dollars backing him. He was perfect and she just wasn't. If she had anymore tears, she would start crying all over again. She was not going to do that. She had just promised her parents she would come back home. She had to. She had to at least try. Marinette shrugged "Then I'll figure it out. I am pretty quick on my feet."

"Oooh, feisty. I like it. Come now, the car is waiting outside. The train should be waiting to leave once we arrive." Alec looked dismissively at the avox "Go start the car."

She bowed her head slightly and quickly departed. The tribute and escort followed behind.

Normally the District 8 streets would be buzzing with energy and the sound of sewing machine would go on til late into the night. Since the reaping had happened less than an hour ago, workers had yet to travel across town to their jobs. Looking at the time she could hardly believe it herself. Less than an hour ago, her name had been called.

They had passed the street that held her house, the bakery. She couldn't see it from the main driving road, since it was tucked back a few blocks down, but the fact that she knew it was there filled her chest up. She didn't feel sad at the moment. Perhaps tonight when she realized she was thousands of miles away from home, it would hit her harder but she did not want her memory of home to be tainted. She needed this to stay sane, and to stay hopeful. If she didn't.. She would fall apart at the seams.

If she was going to die, she was going to die with the smell of freshly baked bread in her mind, and the pricks of needles in her fingertips.

The train was surrounded by workers from District 6, who were busy refueling the train and loading coal into the open cart nearest the engine room. They looked pale, some looked gray or almost yellow. She knew well enough that many from District 6 had a drug addiction problem. Peacekeepers stood by them, ensuring they continued working even as their car pulled into the station. Marinette had not ever seen a train up close before. District 8's fencing had prevented anyone not authorized to work the train tracks to stay far, far away. The had bypassed the checkpoint a while ago and had to drive down a long road before the train station opened up to them.

The avox driving the car, pulled up to the parking. Alec had insisted that they both sit in the back and enjoy the car with the windows down. The dark haired girl didn't really enjoy having the wind in her face and her bangs pushed around haphazardly but she didn't say a word. Alec seemed like the type to talk her in miles before anything got done. When the car was parked, Marinette reached for the door but Alec's hand, which had rested on her shoulder the whole ride, smacked her arm "She'll get it."

She had to let the avox get up and out of the car to let Alec out, and then a few seconds for her to walk around the car and open her door for her. The avox offered her a hand, and Marinette thought it was rude to refuse, even if she doesn't need the help. Once she has gotten to her feet, she smiled to the taller girl "Thank you."

"Ugh! Marinette! Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk to the help! You're _embarrassing_ me." Alec pulled her to his side. He lead her towards the train, a worker getting the door open for them "You have a lot to learn, but don't worry, I'm a great teacher. Tonight, I'll teach you some dinner etiquette. You'll need it to make a good impression on your mentor. Speaking of which! Where is that tom cat?" In the train car they had hopped into, it looked to be one meant for dining, or at the very least drinking. There were tables with cushioned benches around it and a bar off the side that had some variously colored drinks on it's counters "He said he'd be here on time! Ugh. I'm going off to find him Marinette. Stay here and have a drink or two. Not anything too strong, you're such a small girl, but lord knows you deserve a drink after today! I know I'm going to indulge a little later tonight. The Reapings are always so taxing on my pores."

Alec waved his face, as if that would help clear out his pores from the 'stress' he's feeling. At least he doesn't complain more. He moved in the next room, in search of her new mentor. The avox behind them, closed the door of the train and then followed Alec out of the car and to the next, leaving her alone.

She eyed the drinks. She has never had alcohol in her lifetime, it's a harder commodity to come by in District 8 ever since an epidemic of alcoholism consumed a good portion of the district's population over ten years ago. It's how she lost her grandfather, and she knows how her father has sworn off the stuff ever since. Marinette doesn't want to wander down the same path, but she is thirsty. Perhaps she can find some water. She had been parched ever since the Reaping and the dryness of her throat has not left her since.

She crossed the room and swung open the latch to the bar. Inside, the wall is lined with liquor, as well as the countertop, but there is a clean and open surface for the supposed bartender to work on on top of a set of cabinets. Marinette opened up the first bottle of clear liquid she could find, but the smell of it tells her it's not water. She gave up the search for water on the counter and goes to look under the cabinets to see if maybe they have any of the bottled stuff. As Marinette ducked to look inside the cabinets, she hears one of the train doors slid open.

Thinking it's her mentor and Alec who have come back, she closed the cabinet and is about to stand when she hears a light voice "Didn't you say she was in here?"

There was no reply to her question, not one Marinette could hear.

"He can only keep that man busy for so long. If she's not in here, then where else can she be?"

Marinette stayed hidden. Her pulse is throbbing. If she learned anything from class, she knows that right now, she is experiencing 'flight or fight' and since she can't choose between one of the two, she has decidingly remained frozen.

The woman walked around the room, pacing. Her heels clicked on the tile flooring "I know you disabled them, but can you tap into the cameras and see where she could have gone?" There is a minute pause and without a doubt, Marinette knows she's going to be found, by who, she cannot say for certain, but she does not want to find out.

No one would dare kill a tribute before a Game, the consequences of such an action would strike fear into anyone with half a brain. But a seeded fear of doubt in her head makes her believe that maybe someone would try to hurt her or control her so that her district partner (she does not dare to think the name right now, she has been avoiding confronting that part of her in for the past hour) has a better chance of surviving the Games. So before the woman had a chance to get her hands on her, Marinette reached for the countertop and knocked over a few bottles, shattering them on the ground. The noise catches the woman's attention, but the dark haired girl doesn't bother her a glance. She pulled herself over the counter and makes a run for the door the woman left open.

She closed it behind her and moved into the next car, running through it. When she opens the door to the next part of the train, she hears her name called out. Through the glass of the door, she can see the woman briefly enough to see that her hair is a vibrant red with a patch of black on her bangs, and white, white porcelain skin. Marinette turned away before she can freeze again and allow herself to get caught.

In the next room, to her horror, she finds no door on the other side. There is only a maintenance latch on the roof, which has been left open and another a line of six doors on either side of the hall, that all lead to bedrooms. Before she can think through what would be the best option, the red haired woman comes through the door and closes it behind her "Marinette, please don't try to run. I only want to talk to you for a few minutes. We don't have much time." The woman holds her hands up by her waist and moves to sit on the floor. She unbuttons the top of her red coat, allowing her to breath easier "Please sit with me." She gestured to the ground.

Wary, Marinette elects to sit two feet away, with her feet tucked to the side instead of underneath, in case she needs to make a run for it.

"Thank you Marinette. Now this is going to be a lot of information to take in, and I won't be able to give you all the details right now but it is important that you listen to everything I have to say. Do you understand all that right now?" Her voice is steady and doesn't waver, like she has already has every bit of confidence in the young girl.

Unable to find her voice, she nods.

"Good. Then this will be easy. I come from an organization within Panem, one that wishes to put an end to these Games. But in order to do that, we need help, your help Marinette."

When she speaks, she surprises herself "Then why are you asking me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why are you asking me?" She repeated. Her blue eyes are downcast, staring at the red carpeted floor between the two ladies "Don't get me wrong. I hate the Games. I hate having to watch my friends disappear every year. We've lost so many good people.. But, I'm nothing special. I don't know how to fight, or hide, or survive in the wild. I'm the daughter of a baker, and if you need to help, t-then you should ask Ad-" Her throat is closing up. She didn't want to have to think about him, not right now when things were still so complicated "You should ask Adrien. Everyone wants him to win anyway."

The woman paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully "Well, we will be asking for Adrien's help as well. But he can't do it alone. He can't do it at all without you. You were the one who was chosen to do this."

"There must be some mistake-"

The woman leans over the space between them a places a her finger, covered in a velvet red glove against her lips "There is no mistake. Call it fate, destiny, whatever. None of that matters." Her other hand dipped into her the breast pocket of her coat "Take this." She pulled out a jewelry box with a Chinese design crafted onto the black box "Tell them it is your tribute token."

Marinette thinks to the picture of her family. She can't even think about letting it go "But I already have my token."

"I know Marinette, but you have to trust me. They won't take this from you now. But you'll have to make a decision soon. Think it over. If you don't think this is for you, I will completely understand. But I have the utmost faith in you." Her moved from her lips and comes up to cup her cheek and force the small box into her hands "You'll arrive in the Capitol by noon tomorrow. Either leave the box or your picture in your room. If it's your picture Marinette, I promise to keep it safe and have you see your family soon." She lets her hand fall from her freckled cheek and stood up. She walked around the baker's daughter and jumped up, catching the emergency roof latch that was left open and pulled herself up and out of the train.

Holding the box tight in one hand, she stays up as well, watching her leave and she calls out "Wait! What's your name?"

She holds her breath, staring at the open sky above the moving train. After a moment, she thinks she's lost her chance for the question but a bundle of short read and black hair pops back into view with a bright smile, rivaling the brightness of the sky behind her head "It's Tikki." She closes the hatch and Marinette is left alone with her box and a head full of unanswered questions.


	4. Lunch With Plagg

**Chapter Four**

Marinette doesn't bother to open the box just yet. From the sounds of it, she has to look normal and act like she had just met a mysterious woman from a secret organization that plans on ending the Games because otherwise she is going to sound insane. She returns to the room that Alec has left her in, only to curse at the broken glass on the floor. The alcoholic scent has already filled the room and now she has to pick up all the shards on the floor. Today has really not gotten off to the best start.

She bends down and picked up the larger of pieces of glass and threw them into a garbage bin behind the bar. She was still cleaning up the mess when Alec, the avox, and another man entered the train car. Alec, high strung and keyed up seems to be the norm with him, rushes over but stops before the spilt drinks can touch his shoes "Marinette! What happened?! Put that glass down right now! You could get yourself hurt!"

She shrugged "I'm sorry, but it's okay, I was just cleaning up the mess now." The dark haired girl rises up and as she does, she finds the avox girl in front of her, pulling the glass pieces out of her grasp and disposing of them for her. The sharpness of her bright orange eyes could cut her better than the glass ever had the chance to. Marinette has to catch herself not to say thank you again. Alec would be sure to have a fit.

Alec reached a hand for her and Marinette carefully stepped over the glass, while the avox girl sets to work pulling out a mop and broom from behind the bar to clean up the little mess she made. Once Alec has helped her over, another hand reaches out for hers. The man with Alec, significantly taller than him, has her hand at his mouth, where he is pressing a kiss to her knuckles "Already causing a mess? Looks like this year is going to be full of fun." He lifted his head up and relinquished her palm. His hair is black, swept back and held together with gel as if it would get too wild without it. His skin is dark, he looks like he has recent family from some foreign country in the Mediterranean, but nothing sets off his model like looks like his green eyes. She has a vague memory of him, but as more than just a tribute. She can't place her finger on it "My name is Plagg, I'll be your mentor for the Games."

"Very nice to meet you Plagg. I'm Marinette."

"Ooh, I know all about you little girl. Alec has told me so much you but I like to make my own first impressions." His acid green eyes flickered to the mess on the floor "You a klutz or something? What happened here?"

Her blue eyes followed his "Um. Uh, no. Well, I mean I am a klutz but, that wasn't what happened." What a terrible liar has she become. Come on, at least pretend you know what you're doing. After a quick breath, she is quick to recover "I went looking for a water bottle and I just, saw a bug."

He rose an eyebrow towards her "A bug?"

"Yea, a bug, you know. Just out of the corner of my eye. And without realizing where my hand went, I went to smack the bug and then one bottle tipped over another." She gestured to the mess and then rubbed her arm "The domino effect really does cause a much larger ripple."

He hummed, "I've had my fair share of spilled wine. Just as long as it doesn't land on my cheese, I've been doing just fine." His eyes catch something before his lips stretch, cat like and amused "I believe I found the culprit of you little scare. Plagg reached a hand out to her shoulder and pulled back a single digit to show Alec.

The escort pulled back in disgust, not wanting to get touched by the bug "What is that?" He bothered to look closer as the tiny creature flapped it's wings "A ladybug?"

"Looks like it." Her mentor comments before the small dotted bug takes off from his finger to land on Marinette's shoulder once more "It's taken a liking to you." The ladybug took off, it's small body disappearing in the large room "You must have amazing luck little girl. Let's sit down and talk. You probably have a lot of questions and I'm the only one around here to help, so let's make it quick. That Agreste kid is going to work me and my connections to the bone once we get to the Capitol. God, I need a drink."

Lunch turned out to be much more revealing than Marinette thought it was going to be. Yet, her mentor hardly took her questions very seriously, even if Plagg was very forthcoming with anything regarding the Games and the Arena. The man tended to say the first thing that came to his mind with a mouth stuffed with a mountain of cheese or a glassful of wine.

Around a cracker, that was topped with boursin cheese, he answered a question of hers "Whell, it's bad fwo main-" He swallowed, leaving crumbs on his lips. Alec politely ignored the rude table manners of her mentor for whatever reason "Bad to main any weapon. The arena will have a-" Plagg coughed, reaching for his white glass of wine, taking a few heavy chugs. He smacked his lips and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Alec went a little green around the gills, but bit his tongue "They'll have various kinds of weapons in there. And you don't know what resources you'll have. If you were a career, that would be a little different. But since you're not, I won't bother going into the details for that."

She was sick of getting half assed answers. He was giving her just a taste of what she needed to hear, but he shot down most her ideas without giving her much other reason other than that she shouldn't. Marinette was losing her edge and at this point she just wanted to say anything to shock him. So she did "Okay. I get it. But what if I was a career? Or at least joined them?"

Both dark skinned men rose a brow to her. Plagg was the first to respond "You wanna join the career squad?"

She pushed at her food, a piece of smoked tuna. She had only taken a few bites. She needed her mouth free to ask questions. Even if she was hungry and the food was delicious, she was too pent up full of energy to eat "Well, maybe? I don't know yet. But it is an option. The careers nearly always make it towards the end. The numbers say my best bet would be to get in with them."

"What, what, what?!" Alec's hands banged repeatedly on the table "You can't do that! Actually, you could.. But you can't! Careers stick with their own. They almost never bring other districts into their fold. And if they do, it is only so that they could stab them in the back in the middle of the night. It's way too dangerous. And to think I was thinking about placing some money on you. Tsk. And if I think back on it, the only time that plan has ever worked was when-" His dark brown eyes flickered to the man beside him.

"I am a victor you know." His head hangs towards Alec with a newly assembled cracker with cheese. He chewed "I had to have won my Games somehow, Cataldi." His green eyes, burning like the acid they remind her of, turn on her "Your plan, it's not bad. It's just been done before."

She blinked "I'm guessing you did it."

"Bravo, get the little girl a prize." He took another bite of his cracker "You probably never watched my Games. It happened somewhere like, what, gotta be going on 14 years ago? So you were just a baby little girl." Plagg chuckled in the back of his throat "Funny. That makes you and Adrien my 13th batch of tributes to train. Hell, maybe that'll be my lucky number."

Marinette has to keep her mouth shut about Adrien. He is just gonna keep flooding back into her mind if she doesn't.

"Anyways. I was the winner of the 11th Games. I am also the youngest victor of the Games thus far. I was 13 when I won. So you can see why it might be a lucky number." His cheshire grin takes over his face and it makes her uncomfortable.

She shrugged and looked away "Or maybe you are just a black cat with one too many lives."

"Me-ouch." He purred "That hurts. If you didn't want to hear about my Games, you just had to say so."

Her eyebrows drew in, in mock concern "Sorry."

"Don't worry little girl, I can take a hit."

"That's the thing though. I don't care if you can take a hit. I know _you_ can. You're the one who survived the Games, but I haven't." She dropped her utensils. She wrapped her arms around her middle "Don't you get it? You really shouldn't be acting like this is all just.. A game. It's not, no matter what you call it. It's my life." Adrien's name nearly slips out so easily, but she refrains from it "It's 23 other kids lives. And now with whatever the President has up his sleeve with this Quarter Quell thing, it's more serious and scary and confusing than ever."

Plagg's leg bounces on his knee, where he was it propped up "Sooooo, your point is?"

She has to take a minute to give him an exasperated look "My point is that I'd like it if you took this seriously. I want you to want me seriously. I get that you main concern is always going to be Adrien, I get that, and he should be your main concern. He is just more important than I am. But when I do have time with you, I'd like it if you were honest with me and actually taught me how to have a chance at any of this."

He puts down his half done cracker in favor of looking towards Marinette. His leg comes off of his knee and he plants both feet on the ground. Alec swallowed his bite of tuna quickly in order to give the moment the silence Plagg seeks "You want me to be honest?"

"Yes." She dares.

"Since you asked little girl." He smirks, like he has been waiting for this all afternoon "Alright. The reason I've been, really, just been making small talk with you is because I think it'd be a waste of time to teach you anything."

His words have the desired effect. Her pride is hurt, and now her insecurities are festering at the open wound.

Plagg rubbed his ear momentarily before continuing "You're just not worth my time. You're an unimpressive girl. You're small, pretty thin, surprising for the daughter of a baker. Or maybe not, can't go eating the merchandise your father spends his pretty pennies on. And this passive aggressive thing of you trying to get me to help you isn't really working out. Actually, it's pretty pathetic. Maybe if showed me something other than your tits, that I'm sure all your little middle school fan boys must adore, than I would-"

The second he opened his mouth again, her blue eyes turned downcast but it wasn't because she was holding back tears or the hurt. No, her bright eyes were scanning her surroundings. The table was relatively small. She could reach her arm across the table with only a little assistance once she was standing. That fork she just dropped looked like it would be the right length. And the wine bottle that he has been drinking from all afternoon is nearly empty. Still, it looks like the glass should be weighted enough.

So it's within those few seconds that the dark haired girl, her bangs shadowing over her eyes, stands up, a hand on her fork already. Marinette holds the fork like it's an ice pick and she hurls her fist towards Plagg. The fork catches on his suit's jacket and pierces the skin near his clavicle. With strength he can't imagine how she poses, she yanks the man with her hold on him. He yowls as he is forced up and out of his chair and bent over the table. The table cloth is thrown askew and so is half the food and dishes. They clatter on the floor. A moment later, shattering follows the sound and Alec jumps away from the table, shrieking.

Marinette dropped the broken bottle of wine that she smashed over Plagg's head "Should have warned you-"

Plagg doesn't give her time to finish. His long arms wrap around her thin body. He tackles her across the table, taking it down with them. When she lands, her head hits a fallen platter and she can see white dots in her vision. The man that claims that he is her mentor, slides up her body and his large hand closes around her throat before she has time to react "Warn me about what?!" He huffs, acid green eyes chemically burning her.

She can hardly breath with his hand on her neck, let alone speak. It doesn't stop her from swinging her legs forward and kicking from so hard in the back that he falls forward onto her waiting mouth. Marinette bites his neck until he screams out. Alec screams for them to stop, but doesn't move closer to the two.

Her bite victim struggles to remove himself from her clenched teeth. He squeezes her throat harder. Once he has a good grip maintained, he pulls his weight up, bringing her with him and slams the two of them down. The blinding pain is enough to make her lose her bite on him. She gasps with what little breath she has left.

She struggles, her nails digging into the fingers at his throat. She is able to break one of his fingers away, but then he applies his second hand to her throat. He glares down at her, watching her scratch at his arms. A moment after the panic sets in, he releases her throat and pins down her wrists to keep his hold on her "Eh. Not bad. Very unexpected." He huffs between each of his breathes "We can work with that." He lets go of her wrists and stands.

Marinette sat up on her elbows to glare at him. If looks could kill, Plagg would be an icy statue under her blue stare and Alec would certainly be frostbitten too.

Her mentor extended a hand out to help her up. She pointedly ignored the hand and helps herself up. Her dress has half of her tuna, or maybe it's Alec's, stuck to her. It's too hard to tell in the mess the two of have created. Plagg wriggled his nose, displeased with the wine that his wet the back of his jacket "Alec, call the avox to clean this shit up."

The clean man huffed and put his arms across his chest "I will, but don't start getting use to ordering me around like some handmaiden! You're lucky I can't stand the smell of fish on my clothes." Alec moved around the broken glass and ceramic, careful with his white leather loafers.

Once the doors closed behind him, Plagg picked up his fallen chair and turned it to sit down properly "Let's talk about this while we have a moment. Pick up a seat, there is plenty around." He gestured to the ones turned over on the floor.

"I'd rather go take a shower and ignore you, so let's just make this quick." The teen crossed her arms. Her voice sounds rough from being choked and she refuses to admit that it hurts.

He shrugged "Fine. Don't talk to me then. But remember, you need me more than I will ever need you sweetheart."

The fight blared in their eyes once more. She concedes only because she knows she can't win. Her father always did comment on the stubbornness of Cheng women. She pulled up a chair from the floor, wiped down the seat and crossed her legs as she sat down.

"Good choice. Proves that you can set aside your feelings to get what you need. You'll need that in the Games. At least the more important part of this fiasco." He sighed, his eyes trailing the female tribute. He wedged his thumb between his teeth "You're dangerous, you know that, right?" He muttered between his teeth and thumb. Before she could answer, he popped his thumb out of his mouth in favor of leaning forward, on the edge of his chair "What were you going to warn me about?"

"What?" She questioned, leaning back further into her chair.

"After you hit me with the bottle. You should you have warned me about something."

Marinette smirked "You probably already noticed it. I have a bad temper."

"Ha!" He laughed genuinely "I don't think I've heard anything truer."

She rolled her eyes, but her mirthful smirk stayed anyway.

"Look, I get it, you and me, we are not going to get along. That's fine by me. I got plenty of friends and I don't need you but on the other hand, training you is my job. And since you don't seem like a whiney 'peace and love and no more games' crybaby.. well, two outta three ain't bad. I can tolerate working with you, as long as you can tolerate me. So as long as you can do that and promise me you'll give it hell in the Arena, I'll tell pretty boy that he can go fuck himself. He gets treated like every little boy and girl that has walked in here before." Plagg held his hand out to Marinette "What do you say little lady? We got a deal?"

She considers the offer and it sounds so good. She needs every advantage she can get and having her mentor actually train her would be amazing. And if she really wants to even contemplate joining this strange group of rebels that Tikki has given her a sneak preview to, then she actually has to be in a good position to help. Rebels want numbers but they will not want people in their ranks aren't worth it.

The bluenette also has to let her mind dwell on the fact that if Adrien joins Tikki too, that she has to be useful. She has already let him down once and if she can't help him in the games either, that will be another crushing blow that she can't handle.

Nodding, Marinette has her mind made up. Part of her thinks it's way too early and she has not had enough time to process anything, but she goes for it anyway "Okay." She shakes his hand "Deal. Quick question though."

They drop their joined hands "Yes?"

"When did I get promoted from 'little girl' to 'little lady'?"

"Sometime between you stabbing me with a fork and you smashing a glass of wine over my head. But I was also thinking of changing it to bitch."

"Pfft." She smiled but it's short lived because outside, she can see and feel the train slowing down. She got up out of her chair, and walked to a window, looking around "We can't be there just yet, can we?"

Alec and the avox Marinette had met, followed by two more come into the room just as the train is coming to a stop. They've arrived at another station, but it looks nothing like the Capitol Marinette has seen on TV.

Plagg does not move from his spot as he answers "No. This is just the refueling stop. We'll arrive tomorrow before noon." He stopped one of the avoxes by grabbing her wrist "Get me a bottle of Merlot, anything from the 70s, and a platter of Gouda. Have it brought to my room." He stood and nodded to Alec and Marinette "I'll be in my room if you need me. Don't need me. And do us all a favor and take a shower Marinette. You still smell like the district and it does not go at all with the fish."

"Who's fault do you think that was?" She mockingly glared at him as he left.

"He isn't wrong." Alec stayed by the door, not wanting to dirty his shoes.

The glare that comes his way is short lived. She is tired and a bath does sound nice "Alright, I get it. Where is my room?"

The two avoxes left are busy cleaning and Alec doesn't look like he wants to bother them "I'll show you to it. The better it'll be for me once this disaster is cleaned up. I'm so stressed, I wish there was a masseuse on this wrecker."

Alec took out the door first, since he stood by it but before Marinette could join him, out the window, she can see something. The rumble that followed the movement down the tracks, let her see a train coming down the opposite side towards them. The other trained slowed, stopping beside them.

"Marinette! Let's go!"

She looked away from the train and followed Alec down the hall.


	5. Two Options

**Chapter Five**

Nathalie sat opposite from Adrien, her laptop in between the two of them. Even thousands of miles apart, she still was able to monitor his father's scheduling and order him a coffee with three creamers and no sugar. Technology was a wonderful thing, at least the full time assistant thought so. The seating could be better. She made a note of that. She could feel the tracks beneath them even as they slid on by and cut through the wilderness of the lesser districts. This had been her idea, which was why she was the one to accompany her boss's son on the trip.

They had needed damage control. The Agreste brand would see a major drip in stock value if their holders thought that their money would be going into paying Adrien's way to winning the Games instead of continuing the build of their business. The public needed some sort of reassurance that Adrien would be treated as every other model tribute, so, she got them on the first and fastest train she could book and had them careening through the country to meet up with the tribute train that would take the District 8 tributes into the Capitol to make their debut. He would ride in with the Dupain girl and charm just about everyone at the train station in the Capitol.

Currently, the boy was in a foul mood, nearly the worst she had ever seen him in. Too bad they weren't looking to take photos of him in leather jackets or atop motorcycles. At least his pout and angry brow would be worth something then. And she would remind him of that "Adrien." She snapped, garnering his attention "Stop with that face. If your muscles get too tense like that, tomorrow, everyone will think you have anger issues."

"I _am_ angry." His hard green eyes barely phased the woman. She was like a damn robot, it was unnerving.

"Well figure out a way to get over it." Checking her watch, and looking at the sunset out the window she noted the late hour "Soon, you'll have to meet with your tribute partner and you'd better start making a good first impression. From the records I found on her, she's likely to be no competition to you, but if you can figure out what sort of areas she likes to hide, then you can sell her to the careers. Statistically speaking, if you were to join them, the chances of you making it to the later stages of the game increase dramatically."

He nearly hissed "I'm not selling her out just to increase my odds! Are you even a fucking person? Or did my father just hire someone to handcraft you to be as emotionless and calculating as he is?"

She assumed that she would get this kind of reaction out of him. She swore, if she didn't know any better, she would not believe that he was the son of Gabriel Agreste. He is just so attached to his emotions. He doesn't ever think with a clear head, he's all heart and it makes Nathalie wonder if his father was ever like this in his younger years. Probably not, he got all if not most of his traits from his mother. The assistant sighed "I'm just thinking with a clear, nonobjective head. And I'm doing all of this for your benefit." She closes her laptop "You do know that this affects us much as it does you, right?" With a dismissive wave of her hand she cuts of his next words "Not just for your modelling or the stocks or anything like that. I'm just telling you that your father does care about you and your well being. He might not show it, but he has been afraid of this possibility since he found out about it. We don't want to lose you Adrien."

Her words stunned Adrien. It is one of the few times she ever sounded human, he could evenly call it motherly. Suddenly, he is plagued with guilt and it is written all over his face. His father did try, he wanted to make sure his son was safe. And now he had left the Capitol and his father and didn't even say a proper goodbye. Would Adrien be allowed to see his father again? Or would he only be allowed to see the man from afar and not be able to say sorry or thank him? "You'll tell my father that I'm sorry, won't you?"

"He already knows Adrien. That's just what you do for your kids." She reassured him. Truth was, her voice sounded stronger than how she actually felt about Gabriel's feelings for the young model, but someone had to be able to comfort the motherless boy. She reopened her laptop, feeling successful in appeasing the teenager "Let's continue with my reports and calculations. We've already had Vincent reassigned to work as your stylist for the Games, so he'll be able to make sure you look stunning for the cameras. He's already begun work for your Opening Ceremony outfit. Thankfully, from the last measurements he took, he should have everything in the right size, so long as you don't grow much more."

Stretching his arms, he sighed "I should stop growing. The growth spurt pains have stopped so hopefully I'll stay this height."

"Excellent. I've also constructed a new dietary regime for you to follow. It's similar to your summer one, but I've added in a higher count of protein and calories considering that you will need to build up your muscle mass in a short amount of time. Here is a print out of it, I have sent a copy to your mentor, who is by the way, Plagg Mittel, you know, that action hero actor. He should be on a similar diet so you must listen to everything he tells you and follow his exercise routines to the letter." She handed over a folder with a few papers inside. Adrien flipped through the first few that went over his diet and exercise, and his new mentor. And then he saw an unfamiliar face, with notes "There you will find the contests that we believe will be the best suited for you to get acquainted with. Mostly careers, but if they neglect to accept you into the group, we have also devised a 'B Group' if you will that you should have no trouble collecting and joining."

"Wait a second, you just expect me to walk up to these guys and start making friends?"

"Not friends Adrien, accomplices. Having a group increases your odds of survival."

He closed the folder "I can't do that! God! Have you ever seen me interact with anyone my age? I'm a mess."

"But you and the President's daughter, Chloe Bourgeois are always together during your free time." She pulls up his schedule, like she can find how she has been mistaken.

"Stop looking at your screen like you'll find some error on it for me to fix it!" He pushed at her laptop, turning it to face away from the two of them "Sure Chloe is my friend, but that's only because _she_ made me _her_ friend. I never have made a friend by myself." He has to bite his tongue when a pair of blue hair and dark hair pop into his mind's eye. He has to admit, even with her, she just picked him up as her friend and he went along for the ride "I don't know how. And trust me, I've tried. The other models just think I'm weird or a daddy's boy. I can't convince 23 other people that I've never met before to be my friend."

Nathalie grabbed her laptop back "Then we'll have to work on it. I'll speak with your Escort, he must be able to train you to do that."

Adrien wants to argue the fact that you can't train someone to learn how to be friendly, but she is too soaked up in typing to be bothered with.

The train slows and outside the window, the view of the sunset is obscured by a halted train. As it slows, Adrien looks into the compartment windows of the train. There is the odd avox placed here or there, District 6 train workers and Peacekeepers, but suddenly, two pigtails catch his eye. For a few moments, he's able to see Marinette following behind a bald headed man. The moments don't hold up for long enough before the train continues to move all the way down the tracks and then stop.

His grip on his folder gets tighter "I guess this is our stop."

Nathalie, who was also viewing the other train nods "Yes. I'll escort you to the entrance of the other train and then return here."

"Wait, you're not coming back to the Capitol with me?"

She shakes her head "No. The only reason that your father allowed me to come with you and not another assistant on this journey is because he needed me to continue onto District 8 to oversee a construction project for a new factory there that will produce more cloth for Agreste designs."

"Oh." He sighed. He holds back the 'Of course' that is bubbling in the back of his throat.

She packed up her laptop "Let's be on our way."

He stood up and followed her out, where Peacekeepers come and pat him down for any weapons. They then lead the two of them to an entrance in the train, the many compartments of where the passengers of the train are allowed. On the first step up the train he looked back at Nathalie "I'll see you?"

"I dare to hope so Adrien. Look over my notes and take care." She waves him goodbye as he stepped out of view into the train. A Peacekeeper followed the young man in.

After a minute of being taken through the train, Adrien could feel the silence and threatened to burst it "Sooo, where exactly are you taking me?"

Beneath his vision, he side glanced the tall model, which was difficult considering he stood over six feet "To your assigned room. It's bedtime."

The sun had just set, it was hardly bedtime, but he was not about to clarify that to someone toting a gun at his hip "Right, gotcha. Is there like a schedule or something I should know about the train?"

The Peacekeeper grunted "Not one you have to be concerned with."

Damn, dude was about as talkative as an avox. He already missed Vincent. Thankfully, he would be his stylist and he wouldn't have to worry about not being able to see him again.

At his door, the Peacekeeper opened it for him and waved him in. Thinking the man would close the door after him, he turned around to lock it, but the man stepped inside and bumped into him. He pushed Adrien forward "Move it."

The blond scrambled out of his way and further into the room. It held a single bed in the middle of the room. In front of it was a dresser with a TV on top of it and a door leading to the bathroom just off to the left hand side.

The Peacekeeper grabbed the remote off the dresser "You use this to control the room, lights, TV, and the window. If you need room service, hit this button and an avox will come for you, in the case of an emergency, slip open the plastic shield here and hit the button and someone will come running for you. Do Not hit the button if it ain't an emergency, got it pretty boy?" He held out the remote to him.

Adrien reached for the remote only to have it taken away.

"Got it?" He repeated.

"I got it." He answered and took the remote.

The man left, closing the door behind him but not locking it. The teen shifted his weight from one foot to the other and chewed on the inside of his lip. What was he suppose to do now? The reasonable thing would be to order some room service for dinner and then study up on his folder. Tomorrow would be a big day. The train would take them to the Remake, and in the late afternoon, the Tributes would ride their chariots to the City Circle to present themselves to the Capitol. Well, the Capitol knew him, just not as a Hunger Games contestant. That would be the smart play.

But he wasn't ever called out on his brilliance.

Adrien set down his folder and the remote on the dresser and peeked outside his door. No one was around. That was a good sign. He really rather not run into any of the Peacekeepers onboard. He just wanted to see if he could find Marinette. She was somewhere on here. His only questioning thought was what would he do once he did see her? It had been three years and when they parted it had been under stressful and confusing circumstances, so where exactly did they stand? He just wanted to find that out.

He continued through the hall. The car he was in seemed to hold about 8 rooms, but the cars next to both of his also had 8 rooms as well, totaling 24 rooms. He knew that he could take out one room because it was his own, so there was 23 possibilities. That was, if Marinette was even in her room at the moment. She could be with the district escort or their mentors. Even if he had watched all the Games since he turned 12, he couldn't remember ever hearing of a victor from District 8, but he assumed that there was at least one or two of them. All he knows for sure is that Plagg is one of them, if there are more. None of the victors of the Games were old enough to die just yet. His mother would still be a mentor if she hadn't disappeared.

Perhaps he should just wait til the morning to see her. No way, he'll never be able to sleep if he can't talk to her. He can remember the sleepless weeks he endured after their sudden separation. He can chuckle at the 14 year old fantasies he had of sneaking onto a train and finding her again, if only to say goodbye properly.

Then a great idea popped into Adrien's head. He went back into his room and picked up the remote, calling an avox for room service. She arrived moments later. Her and the other avoxes must share a living space in or near the rooms due to her quick arrival. She is dressed in red as they all are and it's easy for him to ignore her bright orange eye in favor of commanding her "Show me to Marinette Dupain-Cheng's room."

Bowing her head, she crooks her fingers in a 'come hither' and steps back into the dimly lit hall. The teen follows her lead, leaving the train car they were in and go into the next. At the second door on the left, she stops and holds her hand out to it, signalling their arrival.

He nodded to her "That will be all." He dismisses her. For some reason she stands there, unmoving. He supposes that she must stand there since this is a girl's room he is walking into, a girl that no one knows that he knows and should be his competitor. He slides the door open and steps in only to nearly trip over a silver platter.

On the bed, he hears a groan "I really told them not to need me."

Adrien's head whips up to the voice. On the edge of the bed, nursing a second platter filled with cheese and a bottle of wine between his thighs is none other than superstar action hero Plagg Mittle! He has to admit, he is a fan and seeing the tall man with middle eastern heritage is star striking. Even if he is suppose to learn from his man. His cheeks go a vibrant red "Oh, sorry, my bad. Hahaha! I must have the wrong room-" He backpedals and tries to exit from the room, but the door is slammed shut and the metal lock setting into place by the avox on the other side of the door is shocking.

"Nuh uh kid, ya got the right room. I just wished you'd have done it before a down three plates of cheese and two bottles of Merlot, which by the way had twenty years on it. Very tasty. Want a sip?" He holds on the bottle to the young model.

Standing in the doorway and unsure of what to do and confused, he shrugs "I'm good. But what do you mean I got the right room? I was just looking for-" He stops himself. He is not sure who he can trust and even if Plagg is his mentor, he probably shouldn't know how his and Mar-

"Marinette? She should be in her room right now taking a shower. She stinks."

How did he know that? What the hell does he mean?

Before he can get all his questions out of his mouth, Plagg stands. He is just as tall as Adrien but packs double the lean muscle that he does. He waved his hand "I am just going to preemptively stop all the stupid questions you got buzzing through those pretty blond locks of yours, alright? So shut up. I'm Plagg, I'm your mentor, guide to the Capitol, da da da, you know the rest of the spiel. Anyway, I also work for an organization in Panem. The type that hide in the shadows and do what they gotta do to get by. Main mission here is to stop the Games. We're sick of it and it's a fuck feast and if it means having to go through with another rebellion, so be it." Plagg bends down and lifts his pant leg.

Adrien sees the needle on the strap of his ankle but doesn't step away.

With the needle in hand, his mentor rises to his full height "So you got two choices now, and no, don't worry, one of them ain't dying, yet at least. If you want to play these rotting Games, I'll be glad to watch your head roll there pretty boy. Choice A: I put this needle in your neck and you take a good ole nap and forget this ever happened. Choice B: You join the resistance. I'll give you some time to think it over and all-"

"I don't need time. B. I'm in."

"Wait, you don't want an explanation or anything?" He smirked at the younger man, with similar green eyes.

"I don't need it, not really. But if you're serious, I'm in."

"Serious as a heart attack." He chuckles and leans down to put his needle away and pulls a box with chinese carvings on it "Take this and put it on. It's a one way communicator. You can talk to it, but you can't talk back."

Adrien opens the box and finds a silver ring. He inspects it for a moment, but there is nothing out of the ordinary about it. He slips it on and it's a perfect fit "So what's the point of me wearing this?"

"That's the question you ask?" He chuckles "You're one strange ass kid. We have someone monitoring it. Say that it's your tribute token. You can bring it into the Games and if you get in some trouble, maybe we can help you out." Plagg walks back to his bed, bottle in hand. He hits play and the television continues to play.

"Okay, but what's the game plan here? What am I suppose to do?"

"Play along. We sit and wait for orders and play along with the Games, until someone says otherwise. For now, why don't you go see Marinette and convince her to join up too, eh? You want her on our side, don't you?"

"I mean, I do, it's just.."

"Just what?" He leans forwards, acid green eyes peering at him.

"I want her to be on our side, it's just, I can't really make her. It's not my place to."

"Pfft. Pussy. Whatever, go see your little girlfriend."

"She's.. well she's not my girlfriend." He pointed out, a bit pathetically. He turned to the door and this time, it opened to the avox girl. He rose an eyebrow her way "So, are you going to led me to Marinette this time?"

She rolled her eyes and walked down the hall, back towards his room and stops by a door next to his room. Adrien felt stupid knowing that her room was next to his this whole time.


	6. Overdue Reunion

**Chapter Six**

This time after the avox showed him the room, she left. He was grateful for it because he stood at Marinette's door for at least five minutes contemplating how in the hell he was going to go about seeing her again after three years.

With a deep breath, he decided the best would be to just to knock. He knocked three times on the door and lowered his hand. He shoved his hands into his back pockets, hiding how they trembled. It was a trick Vincent had done on many shoots when his hands wouldn't stay steady enough. Adrien waited with a held breath. After a minute, he began to doubt himself. Did she hear the knock? Should he knock again? What if she was asleep and him knocking would just disturb her rest? His anxious thoughts plagued him easily. He convinced himself that he should just go to his room and see her sometime tomorrow morning.

He turned on his heel and took a step away when the door slid open. Her head of black hair peeked out "Er, hello?"

Adrien nearly shot up three feet. When he turned around, his hands were still digging painfully into his back pockets "Oh! Hey, hi. What's up?"

"Adrien? What are you doing here?" She asked incredulously. Her hands rested on the doorframe as she appraised him.

He did the same. She wasn't wearing the white dress she had been wearing during the Reaping. She wore long gray sweatpants and a white shirt, the top buttons of which were undone. The shoulders of her shirt were damp and so was her black hair. She hadn't even fixed her hair into their usual pigtails. She looked like she was fresh out of the shower. He stumbled to find words, painfully "Oh, you know, Tribute Train, and my name was called, so I came, heh, small world, huh?"

Marinette shook her head "You're still the same." She said it like she couldn't believe it herself. She stepped forward and her small arms managed to engulf him in a hug.

And just like that, it was as if all (most) of his anxieties went away. Her wet, black ball of straight hair was tucked into his chest. She nested in, finding home there. He tried to free his arms of her grasp so that he could hug her properly, but she pinned his arms in effectively. He didn't mind it until she squeezed harder and a fit of giggles left the two of them "Marinette! I can't breath!" Adrien wriggled his body in an attempt to escape her.

She let him go and punched his shoulder "You should have thought about that before leaving without a proper goodbye!"

The air froze between them.

There it was, out in the open. It was so like Marinette to be so cut and dry and blunt and open and he sorely missed it in comparison to how his home life was.

His hands came out of his pockets and found a new home in his front pockets this time. They still shook as he clenched and unclenched them. He offered a small, hard smile "If I had the chance, I would have. I'd do it right now too," He chuckled, his smile coming easier. He reached a hand out to touch her forearm, pulling her a little closer to him "But I think I owe you a proper hello too."

She took little steps towards him, a coy smile breaking out on her face.

His other hand, fingers calm now, reached for her other arm "Why don't I start now?" Adrien ducked down and picked little Marinette up by her legs and spun her in a tight circle, just like how he use to greet her over three years ago.

"Adrien!" She shouted, her legs popped up when she got picked up. She gripped his back and shoulders to ensure that she stayed upright. She playfully hit him "Put me down!"

"I can't do that, my Princess! I must set you down on a throne fit for your henie." He slapped her thigh. He ducked into her room, as she giggled way too much to make her small punches hurt. When he spotted her bed, he stood a few feet away and held her hips, looking to throw her into it.

Marinette's fists gripped onto his shirt "Don't throw me! ADRIEN!" She yelped before he threw her onto the bed. With her hands digging into his shirt, he was pulled with her and slammed into the edge of the bed.

His shirt was pulled over his head and he was forced to kneel by the side of her bed. It hardly mattered since the two of them are laughing so hard that their ribs ache.

The dark haired girl had her arm resting on her forehead and the other around her middle. While the much larger teen has his face pressed into the sheets and a smile that can't be broken on his face.

When could get control of themselves again, Adrien fixed his shirt and lifted himself off the edge of the bed. He looked down at Marinette and smiled softly "Ya know, I pictured us meeting again in a lot of different ways. Most of them involving me sneaking into a train and climbing the bakery into your balcony." He added off handedly before his eyebrows drew in seriously "If you didn't have to be here, you know, like _here_ here. I could have handled not seeing you again. I feel like me wishing for this got fudged with my bad luck."

The girl in the pigtails propped herself on her elbows and scowled at him. She hit his stomach with her foot "Stop it already. You can't blame yourself for my name getting drawn." She sat up all the way, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She patted the spot beside her for Adrien to sit.

He pouted but sat down "Oh, but I can try."

Marinette gave him an exasperated "Don't start with me. I would have thought after three years and a modelling job that your self esteem would have improved by now."

"You'd be wrong." He smiled regardless.

Silence spread between them. Adrien's mind was filled to the brim with unanswered questions from years ago and the lingering emotions that were left unsaid on that night. Marinette's mind was filling up with ways to ask him about the rebellion, but she also wondered if their rooms had cameras or microphones to record them.

"About all this-"

"Look we should talk-"

Both of them stopped and started.

"Sorry, you go." Adrien insisted.

"No! Seriously, I'm not even sure how to start. My mind is still processing. You say your thing." She insisted, her hands resting in her lap.

He found his hands copying hers. He squeezed his knees "I'm not too sure where to start ether." He was glad that he rest his hands on his knees so that they wouldn't shake with anxiety. He found a spot on the few inches of bedsheet between them "This is weird, isn't it? Like, really weird, right? I mean, the last time we saw each other we were on a date and then- that was a date, wasn't it?" His green floated up. Normally his gaze stayed around other's cheekbones or forehead, but Marinette's bluebell eyes were hard not to look at.

The dark haired girl drew her long legs up, tucking the knee of one under her chin. Her for other foot tucked in by her hip "We might have only been 14, but yea, that was a date Adrien."

He nodded dumbly "Okay, good, glad we we're on the same page. I just wanted to talk about it, ya know? We have to be partners in this. We can't do this without each other. At least, I can't do this without you."

"Yes you can. You can do anything! I'm the one who needs you to do anything." It was bubbling all to the surface now, her insecurities about the Games "I'm not as strong as you, or as good in front of a camera. I don't know how to work a crowd, or just dazzle them with a look like you can."

"As if. I just have a pretty face, and an admittedly pretty body, but I'm not trained. Sure, I know the flattering part a little better, but I don't even know what to do with myself the second I start speaking. I get too nervous talking to crowds! Father doesn't let me near live crowds ever." His hands began absentmindedly rubbing his arm with shakey fingers. He held out his nervous hand for her inspection "See? I'm already all sweaty and nervous just from talking to you!"

She shook her head against her knee, looking up at him like she couldn't believe him " _You're_ nervous talking to _me_?"

"Duh. Isn't it obvious?" He countered with a question of his own. He pulled his sweaty hand back to wipe it on the knees of his pants "You're this girl I met like three years ago and I had such a bad crush on you that I sabotaged your date, just so that I had a chance."

Marinette scoffed "As if! I'm the one who ruined it and I'm the one who asked you to come out with me. It was my choice." The smile that came to her was like someone reliving the experience all over again but the smile fell from her face as quickly as it came "But that was years ago. And a lot of things have changed since then. We're not the same people we use to be. So I get it, you had a crush on me, big deal." She shrugged and the pain that stabbed Adrien was sorely missed on her part as she looked away.

The blond kept his smile up. He might have not been able to lie through his teeth to save his skin, but he could certainly conceal anything that was brought to the surface.

"It's okay if we moved on with our lives. It was crazy for us to ever think we would see each other ever again."

Green eyes flickered to the ground, unable to keep his gaze on her face anymore. She was right. And she, unlike him with a grand total of one, had a lot of friends, possibly a lot of people to become her lover. She had always been so independent of him and Marinette always did end up doing whatever the hell she wanted. And she was allowed to. Adrien by no means owned her. If anything, Adrien owned it to her to do anything in and out of the Games to help her. So he should not have found it surprising at all that Marinette moved on without him. Still, he felt the sting of it.

Not that he would ever say a word about his feelings.

"You're right." He agreed. A kind, soft, and understanding smile never left his cheeks "I'm glad that we both get it. So why don't we put all that behind us, in the past where it belongs. Right now, we're on a train that is literally taking us to the most deadly place in the world where the odds of surviving are less than 4% and somehow, against those odds, we have to get out alive."

"You." She corrected "You have to get out alive."

"Like hell!" He argued. His sweaty palm, finally dried, squeezed her raised knee "There's a different way for us." He rubbed his silver ring into her knee "You know that, right?"

Her blue eyes flickered to his hand, spotting the silver ring. She nodded "I hope so, but I'm still not sure. It's all so complicated and we still don't know who we can trust. The only person I trust is you."

He thought about backing out, letting Marinette have her own thoughts exclusively running through what she thought was right. If she wanted to join the rebellion, after knowing that the previous one ended in utter disaster, that was her choice to make. Just like it was his to make. But he had his reasons, and she just didn't except for the slim chance that they put their faith into these unknown forces and maybe, just _maybe_ they live to see their families again. He wanted to let this be her choice but every part of him trusted her and if she could put half as much of her trust in him, then he had to tell her what he believed. The young teen's fingers still squeezed her knee "I figure that anything that increases our odds is something we should go after. Besides, what could be worse than 4%?"

She smacked his arm "Knock on wood! You'll give us bad luck. I can name plenty of numbers lower than 4 and I don't want to risk any of them."

Adrien rolled his eyes, not very superstitious himself. He gave into her demand regardless, knocking on the fake wood of the nightstand. As he did, he spotted the late hour of the night, almost 10.

She sighed "Let me sleep on it."

He nodded and stood up, moving to leave.

She grabbed his pants, not letting him go "Where do you think you're going?"

"To bed. It's late." He pointed to the analog clock on her nightstand.

She refused to let go of his pants "You owe me a goodbye."

He paused and tilted his head. With a shake of his blond locks, he said "Absolutely not. This isn't goodbye, not now." He bent down and hugged her "I will say good night however."

Her arms looped around his neck and hugged him back "Goodnight Adrien."

He had to tickle her sides to get her to release him back into the wild "See you in the morning Marinette." He left this time with his pants not threatening to be ripped off.

Once he closed the door, she flopped backward. She stared up at the ceiling. Her hair was wet, still drying from her shower. The Capitol trains had human sized driers beside their showers, but she had had enough difficulties turning on the shower, she refused to scald herself by accident. She would have to ask Adrien how they worked.

Her face flushed. She held her face in her hands and shook her head. She tried to will the images out of her head but her creative mind had other ideas. She squeked in frustration. The nerves that had been bundling up awkwardly in her gut had dissipated when the supermodel took his leave, but they were back with a vengeance at the thought of him in a shower with her. The years had done work on him even with such a short amount of time. How could his body have changed so much in three years? Sure, she saw him on tv once and awhile, but he looked even better in person. Worse, how could his mind not have changed in all that time? He was still such a sweet dork and couldn't stand to hurt her feelings at all. He even let her down so gently, in the much deeper and rugged voice than she remembered him having. Marinette knew of course, one attractive young blond by the name of Chloe Bourgeois (who was the President's freaking daughter!) had his heart. Still, it had just been rumors but Marinette knew with Adrien's fumbling voice, his unsteady eyes that were unable to meet hers for the most part. He had outgrown his crush on her and she was stuck in the past, dredging up old feelings that she thought she had long since buried.

She huffed. Her round, full cheeks were still red and the images hadn't left her head.

Looking down at her own body, she had felt so small and undeveloped in every way possible around him. He must have been like six fucking feet tall to her 5'7". And when the hell had his arms gone from lanky to thick, with coarse blond hair covering forearms? He certainly did not possess the clear cut muscle definition and veins that Plagg was packing, but he was able to pick her up and throw her onto her bed with ease. While she had admittedly round hips, but she lacked in the breast area. Curse her mother's Asian genetics! And all her father had to offer her, besides a bit of added height on the average girl, was fair skin that burnt easily and freckles that covered her nose, shoulders, back, and thighs. Marinette always had a sense that she was cute, but in no way could she stand up to model standards.

That's why Chloe had Adrien Agreste. And she, well, she had many sexy thoughts plaguing her of a dripping wet blond male model. It didn't help that she swore that she could hear a shower being turned on next door.

With a sigh, she gave into her thoughts. The black haired girl reached into her gray sweatpants. The elastic of them was loose enough to stretch them and touch herself without having to remove them. Her panties were already wet and she had to push them down a bit to get her hand inside. When she slipped a digit between her puffy lips, she found just had wet she had gotten. She squeezed her legs together and groaned. The blood that wasn't pooling inbetween her legs floated up to her cheeks. Marinette gasped, touching her clit. She was so turned on at the point, she could cum just from this. She cupped her tit through her clothes, squeezing her nipple. Two fingers rubbed and circled her little bundle of nerves. She bit her lips, resisting the urge to moan out a name or make any little noises. She suddenly picked up the speed, her hand moving quickly under her sweatpants. Her hips lifted up, off the bed. Her mouth drew in a tight line as she came.

She lied in bed for a few more minutes, looking up at the white ceiling. She felt better, her mind clearer. She'd be lying if she said the stress from the day was taken out of her, but it took the edge off. Marinette got up quickly to wash her hand and went she snuggled into the fluffy and clean sheets, still warm from hers and Adrien's bodies, she fell right to sleep.

In the morning, the young girl woke up to find the avox that had been escorting her around all day waiting by the end of her bed. The glowing orange of her eye had Marinette jumping ten feet out of her bed. When her heartbeat calmed down, she breathed "Sorry! You scared me!" She pushed the covers off of her legs "What are you doing here? Does Plagg or Alec need me?" She then pinked. Come on, why in the world was she saying an _avox_ questions where the answer wasn't yes or no?

Luckily, the much more much together girl held up a hairbrush. She tapped the plastic of it to get her attention.

"Oh.. You wanna brush my hair?" Where was the nearest hole that she could bury her own body in? The self inflicted embarrassment had to end at some point.

A sigh left the avox's mouth. She took hold of Marinette's shoulder and pushed her the opposite way. The girl sat down behind her and began brushing her hair. At first, the avox had been rough about it, getting the kinks out of her hair but slowly, the brushing turned gentle. They sat quietly for a few minutes until the avox deemed her hair combed enough. The tribute felt her move off the bed and to the wall by the bathroom. She had found her sleepwear in the dresser beneath the TV, but with a few button pushes to the bathroom door, the wall slid open. Inside the wall was a closet of clothing.

Intrigued by what possible designs had been hiding from her in the closet, she got up, off the bed and stood by the avox "Are these for me?"

She nodded, waving her hand to the closet as an open invitation.

The smile that dawned Marinette's face was infectious. The avox turned her head away from her just so that she wouldn't be drawn in. The half asian girl began to pick through, moving clothing in and out of the way. She might have sew clothes everyday of her life, but this was the higher end stuff, not the clothes that the commoners of the Capitol wore. This was designed by people with brand names. Everything was gorgeous and she had never even dreamed of owning a closet like this. Well, she didn't own it right now either, but it was her wardrobe to choose from for now. She had tried on a few different things, taking her time. She was impressed, but also slightly scared that the Capitol had so many outfits readily in her size and somehow in her room.

She finally settled on an outfit. She wore a red, waist high skirt, a light blue long sleeved shirt that brought out the brighter color of her eyes with white flowers decorating it, black stockings, and a set of white, open toed wedges. She finished it off with a few silver bracelets on both of her wrists. She looked to the avox "Thumbs up or down?" She asked.

The black hair girl looked like she wanted to laugh. Instead she settled for a small smile and a thumbs up.

"Awesome! Thanks." Marinette went for her scrunches, about to put her hair into pigtails as she always did but was stopped.

The avox shook her head and took the black ties away from her. She pushed her back onto the bed. Since when were avoxes so bossy? She didn't comment, just began to braid her hair into two loose braids on either side of her face. She had to admit that she liked it. Her hair was getting a little long for just pigtails, so she enjoyed the new look.

She looked in the mirror. Something was missing. Marinette spotted the chinese box that Tikki had given her. She had had time to sleep about it. Last night had proven that Adrien had joined with no hesitation, he was putting his trust in it. Even if she had her reservations about it, she could trust Adrien. So pulled the picture of her family from where she had kept it safe in her bra and put it on the dresser by the TV. The avox said nothing about it as she opened the jewelry box. Inside was a pair of red earrings with black spots. Ladybug earrings? It must have been a sign, and it matched with her outfit perfectly.

As she slipped the earring into her lobes, her blue eyes slid over to the avox who was standing quietly in the middle of the room "Are we going to be arriving in the Capitol soon? Is that why you woke me up?" She questioned her, giving her better questions to ask that could easily be answered with a 'yes' or 'no'.

The avox girl shook her head and pointed to the clock by her bed. It was only a quarter past ten. They wouldn't be in the Capitol likely for another two hours.

"So why did you wake me?" She stood up, blushing when she realized the girl wouldn't be able to answer the question.

As if she was use to it already, she made a come hither motion and beckoned the female tribute to follow her. They left her room, heading down the train, back towards the dining cart where her little incident with Plagg happened. When they arrived to the cart, she could already hear Alec chatting away to someone.

"So on the chariot, you're going to do a nice big wave, like this- Oh, Marinette! What are you doing here?" Alec was seated across from Adrien, stopping half way through a big motion that was likely going to be a way that Adrien should wave. If the first part of it looked that awkward, she didn't want to view the rest of it.

She was about to explain that the avox brought her, but the door slid shut behind her, and she was gone. She shrugged and made up a white lie "I just got out of bed and thought I'd come to see who was up. What are you guys doing?" She couldn't keep the giggle out of her voice. She seriously thought it looked ridiculous.

Alec put his hands on his hips "I'm teaching Adrien what he really need to do when he gets on the chariot ride. Besides the first viewing of the tributes getting off the train, it's the first real action the crowds get to see, so we have to make the best first impression. Adrien's got the name, but he needs to work on getting it into the Games the right way." The dark skinned man stood up, grabbing Adrien by the shoulder and pulling him up "Come now, let's go to my room and I'll teach you the rest."

Suddenly, she was acutely aware of the green orbs that had been on her since her arrival. The part time supermodel was forced onto his feet "Wait, wait, wait. Shouldn't you be teaching Marinette too?"

"Adrien, sweetheart," Alec coddled him, brushing away some invisible dust from his black and white striped shirt "I just know how kind and caring you are, but I have to perfect you before anything else."

Perhaps if she hadn't known that Alec's plan all along had be to send her to the curb so that he could use all of his so called 'talents' to boost up Adrien in hopes of being picked to become an Escort to a better District, then it would have hurt. Right now, it just sounded petty and she didn't have too much of an interesting learning whatever the hell he was teaching. So she remained quiet, moving out of Alec's way as he pulled the much taller blond with him.

At the sliding door, Alec found an equally tall Plagg, yawning and rubbing his eye "What is all this ruckus about?"

"Oh! Plagg, perfect timing. Come with me and we can beginning training Adrien to be the ultimate superstar!"

If Plagg wasn't built as solidly as he was, he would have been dragged along by the bald man just the same as the poor male tribute in Alec's opposite hand. He caught Alec halfway out the door by the wrist and dragged him back in "In case you failed to remember, but last night I said I was going to help Marinette. She proved herself to me and you better believe she can kick your ass in wedges too. If you wanna take Agreste, be my guest, but I don't feel like repeating myself, so if he isn't here right now, he's not learning a drop from me. Speaking of drops…" The action movie star looked to the barman, currently cleaning off the counter top. By the look of the tray beside the bar, he had just finished preparing breakfast and was cleaning up after himself. On the large tray was an assortment of food, but if she had any clue what he was eyeing, it was probably the platter of cheese and the chilling bottle of wine. She hadn't seen the man consume anything more than that on the whole trip. She wondered how in the hell he managed to stay so physically fit on a diet that would make any normal person fat as could be.

Plagg crossed the room, heading right for the platter of cheese, while Alec followed behind, begging loudly for Plagg to reconsider.

The escort had finally released Adrien, leaving the young man by her side. He rubbed his arm, hissing "Dude has got a pinch worse than my grandmother."

She giggled, a hand covering up her mouth "He is one over the top guy. Are all Capitol citizens like that?" Realizing what she implied about him, she quickly amended "I mean, obviously not all of them are- just, it's a saying."

He shook his head, a grin plastered to his face "No, I get what you mean. And no, not all of them. It was just the way they were brought up. The fashion world has a big and _overzealous_ feel to it sometimes. I just happen to grow up with the world's most reserved man in fashion." Adrien looked up and down at her form. At first, she just thought he was examining how the wedges gave her a few extra inches so that she was standing level with his chin rather than his collarbone, but as she viewed his outfit, she realized what caught his eye. They were matching. Embarrassingly so.

He had on a black and white striped long sleeved shirt that he pushed up to his elbows. Around his neck, he had on a black string necklace with a silver coin attached to the end of it. And he had on red pants with white belt fitting snugly around his hips, and a matching pair of white shoes.

They looked between each other, flabbergasted. Adrien was the first to speak "Umm, well, at least we'll look good coming out of the train together, eh?" He offered.

"No! I have to go change. We can't be matching. What is everyone going to say?" She reasoned, about to walk out the door when Plagg stopped her.

"They are going to notice. Who the hell cares what they say?" He had the whole platter of cheese in his hand, the opened bottle of wine in the other, and a sulking escort standing behind him.

Adrien's thick blond brow went up "We're not suppose to care what they say? Isn't that they whole point of this process? Otherwise they might as well fatten us up night one and throw us in the Arena day two."

"And that is where you would be wrong. There are 24 of you, and good or bad or goofy, you have got to stick out. With the two of you dressed like that, all matching like you mean enough to each other to dress the same, it's cute. They'll eat that shit up." Their mentor took a pause and drank heavily from his bottle. He set the cheese platter on the table "Let's sit down. We got another hour or so and I might as well explain the next steps we're going to have to take."

Marinette was surprised by how much Plagg had to teach them, yet it was obvious. He had been a tribute, become an action actor, and a Capitol socialite. He had connections, and better yet, he knew how to teach the two of them attract the right kind of attention.

Adrien also had a very interesting folder. It contained the names, faces, and pages of detail on their everyday lives, including herself. One of the top things on the page was a whether Adrien should socialize with them and how to if he did. Whoever made these was way too meticulous for their own good. When she spotted her own picture, she got curious. She plucked it out from the pile.

They had used her picture from her government working license. It was from a year ago, her hair had been shorter back then and for her picture, she had her hair up in a bun. Beside her picture was her basic information, but what caught her eye was what Adrien had been instructed to do.

'Although she will be your district partner, you should maintain a polite distance. Her statistics indicate that will perform poorly in the Games. If she were to make it past the bloodbath, it would be wise to use any knowledge that you gain from her to track her with the other Career tributes and offer her as a sacrifice. This should solidify your role in their group.'

Adrien read over her shoulder and winced "Sorry, Natalie can be a little harsh."

She shrugged "It's okay, I get it."

Plagg stole the paper from her hands "No it's not okay! Fucking bitch is savage. Remind me to never meet her."

Even she Natalie's "savage" notes, Plagg was able to help them sort out those who could be reliable, and those that you could trust as far as you could throw them.

Alec remained quiet for the most part, still in a foul mood after being told off by Plagg.

Suddenly, the train had been plunged into darkness and the lights inside the train came on.

Their mentor stood up "We're inside the mountain. We'll arrive in about ten minutes to the station. You'll meet and greet some fans, who have paid an exuberant amount to see you and the other tributes. Smile, laugh, be witty or something, just don't let the reporters run you over. After a few minutes there, the Peacekeepers will escort you to Prep. Try not to upset the stylists and Alec will tell you guys how to act on chariot. Try not to fall off." He gathered up the jacket that he had hung over his chair at some point in their long conversation "Be at the end of the train in five minutes. Have fun kids."

The black of the mountain of them faded away. Just outside the windows, the Capitol came into view. It was a shining city, with the tallest buildings she had ever seen. Even with how perfect and beautiful it was, it also looked like a fortress. The shiver of nerves it sent down her body was noticeable. Adrien stood by her, patting her upper back "Welcome to the Capitol. Come on," He beckoned her to follow him towards the back of the train "We can't leave our audience waiting."


	7. Show Time

**Disclaimer: I don't own MLB! But I do appreciate all of you that read and follow this story c:**

・。・゜ ・。・。 ・

 **Chapter 7**

Adrien offered his hand to his district partner but he didn't think that she would keep holding his hand. He accepted it regardless, guiding her to the back of the train. As they made their way to the back, he could see the familiar streets of the Capitol getting closer. He even noticed a large poster of himself selling a line of men's cologne. Advertisements were an everyday part of his life. The flashing lights, the buildings that were so high they looked like they could touch the clouds, the sound of the city with people talking and music and speakers with announcements so loud that he could hear them through the metal walls of the train. All of that was background noise to him, something he had easily become accustom to.

It was only when they paused in the last train car that he noticed Marinette's discomfort. He squeezed her hand and that caught her attention "Hey.." He said calmly, his voice was louder than the noise, but gentle "Nervous?"

She shook her head and played with the edge of her shorts "No, well, kinda. It's just so loud here." She looked around the walls of the train. They would only block the noise for a little while longer.

He smiled and held her one hand in both of his own "Not going to lie, it's going to be way louder out there."

"Adrien…" The teen girl gave him an incredulous look "That isn't very comforting."

"Hang on, let me finish." He paused, waiting for her permission to continue "Okay, it's going to just get so much louder out there but, you have to just block it out. Most of what you're hearing is just background noise. Trust me when I say that I can understand how overwhelming it can get. One time I was suppose to present an award at a university. It was some graduate scholarship my father was giving out. Anyways, all I could hear was the clapping and talking and the speakers blaring from the announcements and the heat from the lights and I ended up throwing up and Nathalie had to present the award for me."

With her free hand, Marinette brought her hand up to cover her mouth, a giggle still escaped "Seriously?"

"Yes, and since I am certainly that you have a bit more of an iron stomach than I do, I am positive that we can make it ten minutes across the train station to the Chariot Building. Just smile and try answering the easy questions you get asked."

With a deep breath of air to fill her lungs, she nodded "Alright, I'll try."

Adrien could hear and see the train pulling up to it's stop "Good timing. We're here."

The tribute train began coming to a halt. The Capitol's biggest fans crowded the station. The only solitude Marinette could see was that two roped off sections with security officers -oddly enough rather than Peacekeepers- posted every 20 feet or so. Across the way was another train marked with the District 12 symbol coal miner hats and pickaxes. She could only imagine that their own train had a needle and thread on it's side. They had their own second roped off section and guards and if she peeked her head towards the glass enough, she could see where the building Adrien had been talking about was. The roped sections met before heading off into the large doorway.

She had still been looking out the window, when the train door was opened. The blinding white light caught her off guard and she stood at the entrance of the train, holding Adrien's hand. Her blue eyes had to adjust to the light, the flash of the cameras, the excited roar of the crowd. It was all just so loud, she couldn't hear herself think. Her district partner squeezed her hand and tugged her forward. They walked down the ramp and the train closed behind them. The clank rebounded in her ears. The last thought she had before the crowd seemingly engulfed her was that she hoped Tikki meant what she said by taking care of her family picture.

They didn't let go of each other's hands as they came down the ramp. The model's hand got a little sweaty, but she hardly minded. She enjoyed the comfort of holding onto something to keep her steady. Reporters and fans lined the ropes, eager to get pictures and video. Microphones were extended to them, asking questions. They ranged from 'Marinette, how does it feel to have a supermodel as a district partner?' to 'Ms. Dupain, do you feel like your partner has an unfair advantage?'

A little stunned, she passed on answering the first questions that came sailing by her head faster than any weapon possibly could. The fight in the arena was looking much more a appealing by the second. The way to the building looked a lot longer with a crowd of a thousand faces and cameras turned their way. Adrien didn't let her go, keeping her fingers laced together. She couldn't imagine how much worse this experience could be if he wasn't the one by her side, keeping her grounded.

They continued walking and more questions turned to their matching outfits, to which Marinette answered "It was an accident!" Then there came a giggle and she was finding herself more at ease and was easily able to add "Seems like great minds think alike, but fashion minds dress alike."

That had gotten her some positive attention. People were laughing. News crews were following the two of them walking, asking her small questions about herself, her home life. She had to repeat answers to some questions but she didn't take any mind to it. All the noise of the city, the flash of the cameras, it was quickly melting into the background. Adrien had been right, it was all background noise. If she was honest with herself, she was enjoying the limelight. Even if in the back of her head, she had a nagging reminder that she only had 15 minutes in the spotlight and then it'd been taken away.

The doubt in the back of her mind couldn't bother her right now. She felt oddly good at the moment. She never found herself really craving the attention of a crowd, but she was immersed in a world that she had always dreamed of. In her world, perhaps in a past life, she saw herself as a fashion designer. She saw herself as an influential person, running a business, working hard for hours upon hours to meet a deadline. To stay up late the night before a show to perfect the last stitches and adjustments to models, all wearing her line. Whether it was summer, fall, winter, spring, the season didn't matter to her. All that ever made a difference was she could change a person's entire appearance with just pieces of fabric.

Adrien was quiet beside her. If she hadn't been so easily consumed, she might have noticed his discomfort. With all her idle chatter and stopping here and there to take pictures with the fans, she had slowed down their progress remarkably. The other two tributes from 12 had to wait to enter with them into the building. Noticing that, she waved goodbye to the reporters and fans (not her fans of course, just Game fans). She and the tall blond who hadn't let go of her hand the entire time met up with the other tributes.

The girl rose her brow up, the beauty mark on her forehead accentuated the gesture "Took you long enough. You enjoy your time in the limelight?"

The black haired girl had the decency to blush "Sorry, I just kinda got caught up talking with people. I really didn't think everyone here would be so nice."

She seemed amused enough, placing her hand on her cocked out hip, which had a nice swell to it "Welcome to the Capitol. If you haven't noticed but our whole blood, sweat, and tears deal let's everyone here be nice. My mama and two sisters sure as hell wouldn't have to deal with my sass if I lived here. Isn't that right pretty boy?" She adjusted the glasses that sat on the bridge of her nose if only to pointed show that her gaze had shifted to the Agreste boy.

She could feel him freeze and see an embarrassed blush brighten on his cheeks.

"Nothing to say? Figures. Daddy probably paid you enough to keep your dumb blond mouth shut. How much are you getting out of this?"

"Hey! Don't talk to him like that!" She took a half step forward towards the girl.

"Girl, don't play with me. Whether your family is getting paid or not to do this little show, doesn't matter. Aren't you mad?! Look at him! Look at this shit show and he's just drinking it in because he knows that he's daddy's little boy-"

That's when she let go of his hand. She marched right up to the girl. They were about the same height, but that didn't stop the two of them from trying to puff their chest out more. She could feel the cameras on her and deadly silence of the station "He's not! He's my friend!"

Perhaps it was the steely look in her eyes. Maybe it was how she could just see Adrien's hand shake without his district partner to hold it. Something about it told her an all too real story "Y… Your friend?"

"He got picked just the same as us! He's just as much from 8 as I am! And I'll remind you that his mother was among the first of us so before you go spouting off about shit you don't know about him, check your facts." Satisfied that she had spoken her mind well enough, she turned back to her old friend, extending a hand out to him "Come on, let's go Adrien."

From the crowd, something broke the silence: clapping.

As Adrien, who was looking up at Marinette like she was the world, climbed up the steps to her and took her hand, the crowd cheered loudly. The station echoed with applause and amazed the two friends.

The girl with glasses was taken aback. She had never been met with someone who could throw her off course in just one go. Her district partner had to pat her shoulder in order to get her moving towards the guards who stood in front of the doors to the chariot building.

The guards allowed the four of them to pass through, opening the doors for them to step into. The trains left the station, horns blaring as they did. The crowds cheered. No other trains followed in after they had. It seemed that they were the last two districts to enter the chariot building, which made enough sense. District 8 and 12 shared a border and were the furthest away from the Capitol. And what a final train session it had been. The doors closed behind them, leaving them in the dark for a moment before the hall lights turned on.

The walls were colored in cream and the halls extended out in a T shape. Sitting on benches on either side of them were four people. From their clothes, there was no way to tell that they were Capitol citizens. They were dressed in all black, like stagehands would but from the gleam of the eyes and the wear of their hands, Marinette knew that these would be their stylist.

They each had white cards in their hands, but before the seamstress could try to decipher what was on it, her district partner was tackled and pulled into the arms of one of the stylists "Adrien! You're safe!" He kissed the teen's cheeks, praising the gods.

The supermodel used his height and long arms to push the man to a distance "Vincent, please. I just went on a train ride."

"Well, I know that. But look at where you are _mon cher_! Oh, I get dizzy just _thinking_ about it. You! In the Games!" He put his wrist to his forehead "Now, now." He took a breath, relaxing his over excited nerves. He turned back to the other stylists, the three of them getting over the shock of Vincent's sudden run to the tribute. He gestured over to the smallest of them, a girl with rainbow colored hair, all tied back with a pink bandana "Mylene, come here. This one is yours," He pointed to Marinette.

The mini sized stylist approached her, holding her hand out to shake Marinette's "I'm Mylene."

"Marinette." She addressed her, shaking her hand.

Mylene held up her white card, her name branded on it "Oh, I know. We've been waiting for you." Suddenly, she turned the handshake into a sharp pull, tugging her off the the right side of the hall to the door "Come now, we have a lot to do to get you ready for the Parade."

"Uh, wait, what about-" She looked back to Adrien, who was getting pulled along by his own stylist to the left side of the hall. Their eyes met and they were being pulled apart and it was just like three years ago and she felt a welt of anxiety come with it. It didn't help that the District 8 girl was being guided along behind her into the room with her make up artist.

She soothed her "He's with Vincent. The boys are all taken on the left." She opened the door for them, pulling her through and cutting off her vision of her friend "Besides, me and Vincent have already talked about a great plan to get the two of you looking perfect for the ride. Something no one has ever done before!"

She spotted the sketchbook in the other girl's hands and felt more at ease. She could see the designs peeking out of the notebook, with swatches of fabric as well. It reminded her of her own pink notebook that she had to leave at home with all of her other belongings "What did you have in mind?" She asked, curious mind piqued into finding out what Mylene and Vincent had planned for her.

・。・゜ ・。・。 ・

Two hours of being plucked, preened, showered in water so hot it turned her skin pink, and then shaved were the worst of it. There wasn't a hair left on her from her panty line down. Her pits and leg hair had been lasered off. According to Anansi -a sub stylist of Mylene's team- that her hair would start growing back months after the Games were over, that is, if she made it. Otherwise, she really shouldn't worry. Anansi was a towering female and the way she talked about Marinette and the other contestants left her to feel like she thought of them as little dolls that she was just playing dress up with. She was glad that Mylene didn't leave her for very long alone in her care. The rest of her team was relatively nice and made the more painful parts of the progress easy.

She hadn't enjoyed the previous hours of her skin being rubbed raw and clean and then moisturized, but she had plenty of fun with the time afterwards.

Mylene was pleasant, liked bits of idle chatter, but mostly did her work in silence. She sat across the tribute at her work desk, sewing like a madman while her team busied themselves working on her nails and treating her hair to a deep clean. Marinette didn't think of herself as being very dirty, but with all the grim they were peeling off of her, she was being to think that she was wrong.

If she was thankful for one thing, it was that Adrien and the other boys had been separated into different rooms. It seemed like all of the stylists prefered their models naked until they were sure that they were ready to put on their costumes. She had kept on a brave face in front of the very much grown gorgeous _model_ and _friend_ , she had to remind herself of that. But she didn't know if she could handle seeing him naked, or worse: him seeing her stripped down and bare as she was.

When her hair and nails, which were painted a soft pink, were dried, Mylene finally allowed her to put on a robe. The fluffy white feel felt like heaven on her abused skin. She was also allowed out of the chair that they had been doing most of the prep work in and she could go join the other tribute girls in the vibrating chairs. She wasn't exactly sure what the purpose of a vibrating chair was, but 'try something at least once' was certainly a motto of hers.

She sat down, finding buttons all up and down the arms of the chair. She was just about to press a button to try it when one was pressed for her by a manicured nail.

The chair's back started to move against her and she nearly jumped out of it with a yelp of surprised. The same hand caught her shoulder before she could move out of the chair "Slow your roll and relax." She eased her back into the chair. Gentle balls pressed into her back and it actually felt nice. That's when she caught the face of the District 12 girl. She hadn't noticed it before but her hazel eyes were quite large and inquisitive behind her black rimmed glasses. Those eyes were pinning her down with a look she didn't understand right off the bat "The chairs are a little complicated, but hell, we might as well enjoy it, ya know?" She chuckled. She took the seat beside Marinette, her fingers tapping restlessly on the arm, like she was trying to find the right words "So... sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to call you guys out like that. Well, I _did_ mean to call out Agreste, but, like you said, I want to get my facts straight." She sat up in her chair. She hadn't even bothered to turn it on at all. The way she sat towards her and the way she held her hands against the arm of the chair, she could see this girl in another life with a pad and pen in hand "So I wanna know, how did you and Adrien become friends so fast on the train? Why do you believe he's not just doing this for his dad or for the show?"

She chewed on the inside of her lip. Would it be alright to divulge to this nameless girl? She didn't know her at all. Then again, did it matter if she didn't? Surely others would soon figure it out enough and tell the whole world regardless "I didn't just meet Adrien on the train." She confessed. Fuck it, might as well "I met him three years ago before his mother disappeared. We became friends. I know him, so when I say that he's not doing this for the money or fame or whatever else, it's true. He doesn't even like talking to live audiences. He's probably just as scared out of his mind same as we are. I know I am."

"Scared huh?" She looked like she would be chewing on the end of the pen if she could "That's funny. I don't think in the 25 years of the Games that I've ever heard someone admit that they're afraid."

She shrugged "Because there's nothing very memorable about being afraid."

"No way! Admitting it just makes you so much stronger." Her hand came up to squeezed her forearm "I wish I was brave enough to do that. You know, ever since I got on the train, I promised myself that I wouldn't try to make friends on this. But here I am, talking to you already because I don't know how to keep my stupid mouth shut. And now it kinda sucks that you're cool."

When Marinette smiled, it was infectious "You think I'm cool? No way. I thought everyone in my class was just losing it. You aren't allowed to too." Back home, she had lots of friends, good friends. She didn't mean to, it always just sort of happened. Every year she ended up in a class full of people she either never meant or didn't really know, and a few weeks into class and they would all hang out on the weekends. Less and less of her time went into hanging out with her friends ever since she started working, but she still spoke with everyone in class regardless.

"I'll be the judge of that!" She finally backed down, leaning back into her seat and fiddling with some of the settings "Your name's Marinette, right?"

She nodded "Yea, what's yours?"

"Alya. Alya Cesaire." Just then, her stomach growled "Heh, sorry. I haven't eaten since last night. I was too nervous this morning to stomach anything."

The black haired girl agreed "Yea. I hardly ate ether."

Beside the two tributes, a silver platter was brought between them, holding macaroons. She looked up to see the bright orange eyed avox from the train holding them up for her. Marinette took a green one from the plate "Thank you."

With her free hand, she touched her forehead and waved her hand in front of her face until her hand was underneath her chin.

Her brow rose up, unsure what that hand movement meant.

Alya sat up in her seat, her mouth half full of a macaroon. Her hands came up, pointing to the avox "You know how to sign?" She pointed her index fingers together and twirled them around each other.

The avox followed up by curling her hand into a ball and nodding it as if she was knocking on a door.

Marinette looked to Alya "Wait, so you can talk to her? How do you know sign language?"

"Sure I can. My father went deaf at a youth age and one of my younger sisters was born deaf. It's also pretty useful inside of the mines. The machines can get really loud sometimes. And since my dad's a foreman there, everyone around the Seam kind of picked it up. It's pretty nifty." The dark skinned girl turn to the avox, waved to her then pointed to herself, placed her middle and index fingers together on both hands and tapped them together before she held one hand out to her. Her hand tucked into a loose ball, then she opened up her index and thumb to form an 'L', then her index finger went down in place of holding her pinkie out instead before she returned it to the same position she had started in.

The baker's daughter watched with avid interest. She of course knew of sign language, but had never seen it in practice.

The avox set down the platter of macarons on a table several feet behind them before coming back. She repeated Alya's hands, pointing to herself and tapping her middle and index fingers together before she signed something completely different.

Alya, thankfully, recited it aloud for her "J- U- L- E- K- A. Juleka? It's nice to meet you and thank you for the food." She tapped her chin before bringing it out to her.

The dark haired avox, who she now knew as Juleka smiled softly and held one hand in a fist, drew a circle above it with her index and middle finger and then tapped her fist.

Curiosity struck the non signer "What'd she say?"

Before Alya could reply, Juleka hands moved. She pointed to Marinette, then tapped the edge of her hand on the curve of her thumb twice, she then put her fists, one on top of each the other, twisting them inwards, finally she pointed to Alya turning her hands back into fists, fingers pointed towards each other. Her index fingers pointed out, and then she rotated her hand.

The other tribute giggled. Marinette was at a loss of words, completely out of the language group, so she looked to the other speaking girl.

Rolling her eyes, she translated "At first she just said 'Of course', but when you asked what she said, she signed that 'You're going to get on my nerves if I keep having to translate for you.'"

She had the decency to pink "Sorry!"

She shrugged "You're all good girl." Out of the corner of her glasses, she caught her stylist waving her over. She stood up and stretched her arms over her head "Looks like the show's calling for me." Alya took a step back in the direction of her team, when the District 8 tribute called back out to her.

"Hey, I'll see you later?" She asked, her eyebrow raised. The silent question of 'Should we talk later?' was also raised. In about two weeks, they'd be entering the arena. Sure, allies could be good but the Games always had a written understanding that they wouldn't last for long.

While Alya paused, she seemed to be weighing the options. She shrugged "We'll see what fate has in store for us. Bye Marinette. Bye Juleka."

The two of them watched her leave before Juleka held her hand out to her tribute to escort her back to Mylene to see what was in the world she had planned for her outfit.

 **How did you guys like it? I'm no expert on ASL at all, but I hope I portrayed it in a way everyone could understand and followed an accurate way a conversation in that language would play out.**


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